What Lies Beneath
by The Egyptian Lovers
Summary: The story starts the same as the film, yet with one big difference...there is no Raoul. With no Raoul to get in the way of Erik and Christine, anything is possible...see profile for more info.
1. New Management

_**What Lies Beneath**_

Chapter 1- New Management.

"Oh will you hurry up André else we are going to be late!" Shouted Richard Firmin to his business partner, Gilles André.

"Calm down Richard! I'm sure that he will not mind if we are just a few minutes late…" Firmin did not take much notice of this; he was too busy checking to see if he had forgotten anything, all of a sudden he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Notes… notes." A look of utter terror came over his face, but after about ten seconds careful searching of pockets he seemed to find what he was looking for, André eyed the two pieces of Parchment he was now holding curiously.

"What are they?" He asked, reaching out a hand to take the parchment from him, Firmin moved them out of reach however, which was very easy due to the height difference between the two of them.

"Just some legal documents, they require Monsieur Lefevre's signature so that the Opera Populaire is in our name."

André smiled as they continued to walk down the street towards where their carriage was waiting for them, he was a small man, greying at the hair and with a small grey moustache to match it perfectly, with features that greatly resembled a mouse. Firmin seemed to notice his sudden jolly mood.

"What are you smiling about?" André's smile grew even wider at this. Firmin was practically the opposite of his colleague, he was tall, with dark brown hair which only had a few traces of grey in it, and had sharp features giving the distinct impression that he was the more mature of the two.

"Well, for somebody who thinks this is going to be a dead end business…" He began, choosing his words very carefully, "… You seem to be making a very large effort to make sure nothing goes wrong."

Firmin looked slightly angry when André had finished talking. "When? When did I say anything about it being a dead end job…?" André opened his mouth to reply, "… OK I may have said something about it not being a very reliable job…"

"Yes…" André agreed in a dreamy voice. "… And how often did you say that Richard? About five times a day since I suggested it."

Firmin could tell that this was going to be a very difficult argument for him to win; he pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time.

"Good heavens!" He shouted, pointing dramatically at his watch, and breaking into a run towards the carriage, which was now visible at the end of the street. "We are already 2 minutes late, and we are not even in the carriage yet!"

They sprinted down the street, getting a lot of strange looks from passers by, and nearly jumped into the carriage.

"Good morning Gentlemen! In a hurry are we?" Said the carriage driver joyfully, turning round in his seat to address the two of them.

"Yes, however did you know?" Asked Firmin Sarcastically, "…Just get to the Opera Populaire as quickly as possible please Monsieur."

Without another word, the carriage driver turned in his seat, picked up the reins to the horses and set the carriage in motion. André was in a very good mood during the trip to the Opera house, which seemed to make Firmin even angrier with him.

"I do not understand what you are worrying about Firmin." Said André after a few minutes awkward silence.

"We need to give a good impression André, and being on time is the first way to do that." Firmin snapped back at him.

"Well… It's not as though we have never met the man before, and I thought it was first impressions that always made the biggest impact." André' sounded very sly, and Firmin resigned to the fact that he was not going to be able to agree with him, so he just sat in silence for the rest of the trip.

-

"Waistcoat…" Monsieur Lefevre was muttering to himself in his office, "…Pocket-watch… tie…"

There was a knock on the office door, and Lefevre gave a small jump, making himself look as presentable as he possibly could, he walked over to the door and opened it slowly, though instead of seeing the two new managers he was expecting, he saw a young girl.

"Sorry to disturb you monsieur, Madame Giry sent me to tell you that the two managers will be arriving in about five minutes." Said the girl, timidly. "So it is true that you are retiring Monsieur?"

"Yes it is…" Answered Lefevre, his voice shaking.

"Is everything alright Monsieur?" Asked the girl, sounding concerned.

"Yes… Yes everything is fine; you should get back to rehearsals…" Without saying another word, the girl turned and left, closing the door behind her.

_Is everything fine… everything will be much better when I am rid of this accursed place! _He thought to himself, walking over to his desk, where he noticed a letter.

"Oh no…" He whispered to himself, picking it up and opening it.

He read through the letter several times, the envelope still clutched in his hand, which was shaking violently. After several minutes, he discarded the letter in the bin, and made his way over to the door, he opened it, but before leaving turned round.

"I hope we never meet again…" Then he turned and left, but could have sworn he had heard a voice say 'We won't'…

-

Firmin stared out of his carriage window as they approached the building, the Opera Populaire, its golden statues gleamed on either side of the magnificent staircase leading to the large oak front doors. Now that he saw the building up close, Firmin had very little doubt that this was going to be such a useless endeavour after all. The carriage pulled up at the foot of the grand staircase and the driver set the reins down and went to open the carriage door.

Firmin stepped out of his carriage, gazing at the massive opera house. André quickly jumped out of the carriage after him; André was also gazing up at the massive opera house, only unlike his colleague he was beaming from ear to ear.

"You see? What did I tell…"

"Yes yes ok! I'm still not completely convinced." Said Firmin, cutting off André before he had to endure another lecture of how he should 'listen to him more often'.

"Not completely convinced, ha!" André's voice was full of sarcasm; he could not believe that after 5 years of working together he still could not admit he was wrong…

"For all you know the inside could be completely different to the outside." Firmin was getting very annoyed with André's enthusiasm; he was still panicking about being so late.

"Just you wait, you will see that once again I am right and you are wrong." With this, Firmin started marching up the staircase, trying to ignore André, who was bouncing up the staircase looking as though Christmas had come early.

The doorman held open the huge oak front doors, and Firmin and André walked into the entrance hall of the Opera Populaire…

It was, if possible, even more magnificent than it looked on the outside, Firmin tried to take it all in, the gold decorated candelabras, the many gold statues that were on either side of the great marble staircase, the balconies, it all seemed a little too good to be true.

"Ok you proved me wrong, the inside is completely different." Said André, clearly fighting the urge to jump in joy. Firmin closed his eyes trying to find patience, which was very difficult as André was now starting to squeak with excitement.

"I still want to see our performers before I start celebrating." André's expression changed almost instantly.

_How can you be so stupid Richard, you are only going to end up making a fool of yourself once again. _He thought to himself, trying to think of a comeback to Firmin's unnecessary remark.

"You will be eating your words when you see them." Said André, now realizing how highly decorated and polished the marble floor was. Firmin opened his mouth, about to say something to shut André up…

"Ah, Monsieur Firmin! Monsieur André! Absolutely delighted to see you again, safe journey I trust?" A man was walking down from the main staircase, Firmin recognised him at once.

"Monsieur Lefevre! Delighted to see you too, yes we had a safe journey. I trust you have been keeping well?" Firmin's mouth was still half open as André said all this, he could tell that he was never going to hear the end of this.

"Excellent thank you very much." With this, he led André and Firmin up the grand staircase, all the while having an animated conversation with André.

"So… What do you think? Please excuse the mess it's just that the cleaner hasn't covered this area yet." André gazed up at him amazed, now wondering what the place could possibly look like at its cleanest.

They continued their tour around the other areas of the Populaire, Lefevre had decided to show them the best part of the opera house last, as he was sure that this way it would definitely secure his retirement. They continued, their voices bouncing off the walls and the ceiling echoing very loudly, but as they were so merrily engrossed in their conversation they did not seem to notice.

"So explain to me monsieur …" Lefevre's attention now turned to Firmin as André was currently admiring the fine features of the manager's office. "What made you decide to give up the 'junk' business?"

_I could get used to this business… IT'S NOT JUNK!_ André thought with exasperation.

"Scrap metal actually monsieur." André hastily cut in, whilst throwing a sharp look at Firmin, he wished to give a better image of the business he used to run as he knew Firmin would probably ruin it completely.

"As André said, scrap metal!" Continued Firmin, a note of caution in his voice. "Well we wanted a change didn't we André? And as we saw you were advertising for new management… and that we are already quite well acquainted, we thought it would be a great new opportunity which both my colleague and I couldn't deny."

Something had just caught André's eye, in the waste paper basket was what appeared to be a letter, though it was not the letter that was interesting, underneath it was what appeared to be its envelope, which had a red wax seal in the shape of a skull.

Lefevre seemed to notice what André was looking at. "Umm, shall we continue our tour of the Populaire now then gentlemen?" He nearly shouted, very quickly.

This seemed to distract André completely; after all, he still had the task at hand of proving Firmin wrong about something yet again.

"Yes I think so!" He replied happily, walking over towards the door. "Where are we going next?"

"I will show you the dormitories next; some of the ballet dancers live and train here, so we need to give them good accommodation."

There was a long silence as they continued their tour of the Opera House, admiring all of the rooms that Lefevre showed them round. After a while, Firmin decided to start up the conversation once again.

"May I ask you monsieur?" Lefevre looked over at him, questioningly. "Why exactly are you retiring?" Firmin had a note of curiosity in his voice as he asked Lefevre this question.

"My health", he replied, "It is exceptionally challenging running this place and I thought that perhaps it was time to take my leave, I have been running it for nearly 8 years."

"8 years!" André whistled softly "I didn't realise it was that long."

Lefevre chuckled at his remark. "My dear André, that's why I am retiring and leaving you good messieurs to run this business to the very best of your abilities."

_Should I warn them? No that would be stupid, you need to get out of this place and telling them about him is not the way to do it… He already knows of course what is going on… I just hope they will be able to afford to run this business after I'm gone…_

Lefevres thoughts trailed back to reality and he pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind. "And I have every confidence you shall succeed, but I will warn you it isn't always going to be easy… not to put you off, but …" He stammered for a moment trying to find the right words.

"It's a business Lefevre, we understand there may be a few little obstacles along the way, but I'm sure we shall over come them, isn't that so André?" Firmin asked positively.

"We are business partners; we know what we are dealing with." André replied.

Lefevre's mind began to race and his previous thoughts flooded him again at André's words;

_NO! I don't really think you do, you don't know half of what you're dealing with yet… and it isn't just the productions…_

His thoughts suddenly drained from him as Firmin's concerned voice hit his ears. "Are you alright? You've gone rather pale all of a sudden." Lefevre flushed.

"Oh good heavens, I'm fine, just a little tired is all, please don't worry yourselves gentlemen… now to our final destination, the main theatre as I believe we are finished looking around the rest of the Opera house." And with that, he led them out of the dressing rooms through to the main theatre.


	2. La Carlotta

Chapter 2- La Carlotta.

Firmin entered the main theatre and felt his jaw drop. Of all the rooms that they had seen, this had to be the biggest, and most spectacular of the lot of them.

Like in the main hall, there were golden statues placed all around the theatre. And it had enough seats to rival what looked like any other theatre in the world, why there must have been around three thousand identical red velvet covered seats in the entire theatre. The stage, which appeared to be made out of highly polished oak, was illuminated by a semicircle of torches.

André was standing beside Firmin, clearly at a loss for words. He was gazing at the orchestra pit which was just in front of the stage. There in the pit stood the Conductor, a small man around the same size as André, who also had grey hair and a moustache, only instead of having mousey features, like André , seemed to give the impression that he was a very large gerbil.

The Conductor was currently giving a talk to all of the musicians in the pit. André knew from a previous meeting with Lefevre that they were currently rehearsing for Hannibal.

He finished his talk, and the orchestra were poised and ready to start playing. André was listening intently, and so apparently was Firmin. They were taking such a long time that André turned round to ask Lefevre what he was waiting for, only to find that Lefevre was standing a good five feet away clearly bracing himself for something…

Then, without warning, both Firmin and André were struck by an ear-splitting scream, André jumped and nearly lost his balance, Firmin was completely caught by surprise and jumped backwards into Lefevre, stepping on his foot.

"There's no need to worry Monsieur!" Shouted Lefevre, over the increasingly louder screams that were coming from the stage. "It is simply our Prima Donna, La Carlotta, you see?"

Now taking another look at the situation more carefully, Firmin noticed a woman standing centre stage, holding a fake severed head, clearly…ummm, could you call it singing? at the top of her voice.

"Ummm, very talented girl!" Whispered André, as soon as the 'singing' stopped, his voice full of doubt.

"I would be grateful to have her sir; she has been our leading soprano for the past 3 seasons."

The Orchestra struck up another tune, Firmin was about to cover his ears when Lefevre stopped him.

"No need sir, it's the chorus." Firmin breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to André, who had turned a very delicate shade of green.

"I'll be eating my words will I?" Whispered Firmin to André, while the chorus roared away in the background. "Well I never thought I'd hear something so brilliantly, so unbelievably… shrill!" Firmin could not honestly say that the chorus was bad, the only downside to it was that it was being led by Carlotta, who was singing more exuberantly than ever. This made André's face go extremely pale.

"I will admit that she does need to improve a little bit, but I honestly thi…"

"She's been the lead soprano for 4 seasons André, you would have thought that she could have improved in that time." Said Firman, cutting André off, half annoyed, and yet half pleased that he had for once proven him wrong instead of the other way round.

"Three." Said Lefevre, chipping into the conversation.

"I'm sorry monsieur?" Asked André, his voice full of curiosity.

"Three seasons, but I quite agree sir, we have tried to get her to improve but…" He gestured hopelessly over at Carlotta, and her voice rang out louder and more enthusiastically than ever. The three of them winced. "But as she is the only one who is capable of being the lead soprano, you need her if you want your opera."

"But there is room for improvement, uh, isn't there?" Asked André, a note of desperation in his voice.

"Oh I'm sure she could, you may not need earplugs each time you hear her if you are lucky!" André glared at Firmin, using the situation to his advantage, so he could get his own back on André.

"Please do not worry yourself good messieurs, the chorus, the orchestra and, of course, our magnificent ballet all make up for Carlotta!" Exclaimed Lefevre, and now that they took a closer look, the ballet they saw was, there was no other word for it, excellent.

André took a step closer to the dancers, closely followed by Firmin, gazing at them in amazement, they were superb! He turned to look up at Firmin, and without words, they made a truce, that neither of them were right nor wrong about the opera business.

"Ah, Madame Giry! If I may please introduce you to the new managers, Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles André." Both André and Firmin looked up at Madame Giry. "Gentlemen, this is Madame Giry, our Ballet instructor." She held out a hand and shook both of their hands in turn.

"It is indeed a pleasure, Gentlemen." She said as she was shaking André's hand. A scene which looked peculiar due to the large height difference between the two. "I certainly hope that you are up to the task…" She broke off at a warning look from Lefevre.

_So you still haven't told them_ She thought in exasperation.

"Of running this place?" Interjected Firmin, looking puzzled. "My dear lady we have already had this discussion with Monsieur Lefevre, and believe us, we are quite capable of running this place."

_I'm not sure who is going to be the most unhappy when they find out about it, these two… or **him**._

Madame Giry tried the best she could to keep a straight face as Firmin said all this but much to her distress, she could not.

André indeed noticed the sudden lack of colour in Madame Giry's face. "Is there some sort of illness going round or something ? Because everyone we seem to talk to looks a bit peaky." He said. Madame Giry tried to put on a puzzled face.

"I'm not sure what it is you mean monsieur." André opened his mouth, perhaps to explain what he meant, but couldn't, because Madame Giry seized his moments hesitation in order to change the subject. "We take particular pride in the excellence of our ballet monsieur." She gestured towards all of the ballet girls with her cane. André now noticed that she walked with a slight limp in her right leg.

"I can see why. They are all superb!" Exclaimed Firmin, scanning all of the ballet girls. One in particular caught his eye, a tall, beautiful girl, with long dark brown hair which was curled into ringlets. She was exceptional.

"Especially that little blonde angel!" Said André, pointing out a tall blonde girl, who happened to be paired with Firmin's dancer.

"My daughter, monsieur, Meg Giry." André blushed, though he thought he could trace a bit of pride in Madame Giry's voice.

Keen to find out who his dancer was, Firmin quickly added to the conversation. "And that exceptional beauty! No relation I trust?" Firmin waited eagerly for Madame Giry's answer.

After a little bit of thought, she said. "Christine Daae, a promising talent monsieur Firmin, very promising indeed." Something stirred in Firmin's mind at these words, it took him a moment to think of where he had heard the name 'Daae' before… Though all hopes had nearly faded, as Carlotta had yet again decided to give her best effort to the song.

Then he got it. "Daae did you say?" Shouted Firmin, almost incomprehensible through Carlotta's deafening shrieks. "No relation to the famous Swedish violinist?" His voice was growing steadily louder as Carlotta sang with all of her soul. Madame Giry needed to scream her next 3 words so Firmin could hear her.

"HIS ONLY CHILD!" The music had reached a moment of silence, and it was now possible to communicate without screaming. "Orphaned at seven, where she was brought up and trained in the ballet dormitories."

This explained a lot. He had seen a picture of Gustav Daae before, and now that he knew she was his daughter, it seemed rather obvious, she was a spitting image of him, except of course that she was a woman.

From the sound of the orchestra, it seemed that the song was coming to an end, this meant that Carlotta had to sing the best she could, so as to get a good effect for the finish. This made Madame Giry take a suspiciously long while in cleaning out her ears. Something stirred in André's mind…

"_I would be grateful to have her sir, she has been our leading soprano for the past 3 seasons." _

This would mean that she must want a lot of attention and be fussed over for her amazing talent, in exchange for her singing, and as if Firmin had read his mind…

"That was spectacular." He bellowed at Carlotta, clapping a little over enthusiastically, but she was too busy smiling and curtseying to really care. She clearly loved the attention. In the background Firmin saw one of the chorus girls throwing a fake vomiting attack.

"Marvellous, marvellous!" André chimed in, also clapping enthusiastically, a fixed smile set onto his face. So as to make sure Carlotta did not get too much attention, Lefevre led them over to Monsieur Reyer, the conductor.

"Monsieur Reyer, may I introduce you to Richard Firmin and Gilles André."

"Uh, y-yes, pleasure to meet you." He spoke with a slight tremble, but then he did not seem like the social type.

Carlotta was starting to look very sour. Firmin, noticing this, quickly made an attempt to give her something to be occupied with.

"Monsieur Reyer, may I say that your orchestra is magnificent! And I would be deeply honoured if you and La Carlotta could both regale us with perhaps one more song?"

Without waiting for an answer, André quickly said. "I believe there is an aria for Elissa in act three of Hannibal?"

"Thank you!" Said Firmin, and leaving them no choice, not that Carlotta really had any objections, on the contrary, she was already in position ready to sing.

A soft piano tune started to play and after a short 2 bar introduction, Carlotta started to sing…

**Think of me**

**Think of me Fondly**

**When we've said goodbye**

She was clearly singing to impress, as Madame Giry had become obsessed with the hygiene of her ears again.

**Remember me**

**Once in a While**

**Please promise me you'll try**

Lefevre, taking a leaf out of Madame Giry's book, now started to make sure that his hair, particularly on the side of his head, was perfectly neat.

**When you find**

**That once again you long**

**To take your heart back…**

There was a scream from everyone in the theatre, except from Carlotta…


	3. Fondest greetings from OG

Chapter 3- Fondest greetings from O.G.

One of the backdrops directly above Carlotta had come crashing to the ground, almost landing on her. The canvas had covered her and she was screaming something incomprehensible from underneath it. Piangi, the Opera's leading male vocalist, had rushed over and was trying to help her get out from underneath it. After a few minutes hard work, Piangi managed to get her out from under the canvas of the backdrop.

"Signora, these things do happen." André said with a slight chuckle. He realized, to late, that this was a mistake…

An enraged and shocked Carlotta turned to faceLefevre. "For the past three years these things do happen! And did you stop them from happening? NO!"

She then whipped round to André and Firmin. "And you two - you are as bad as him! 'These things do happen!' ... Until you STOP these things from happening THIS THING DOES NOT HAPPEN! Ubaldo! Andiamo! Bring my doggy and my boxy!"

As Carlotta stormed off in anger at having a backdrop almost crush her, with André and Firmin at her heel groveling for her to reconsider. The main theatre grew silent and most of the dancers eyes were gazing upwards towards the place from where the backdrop had fallen.

Joseph Bouquet, the stage manager, who was standing near the backdrop at the time, couldn't find any sort of explanation as to why it had fallen in the first place as he did not see anyone else standing on the platforms. "There's nobody there, and if there is... well then, it must have been a ghost!" he called down jokingly.

This of course started the girls whispering to each other and made them look around with a more edgy feeling amongst them. Their gossiping was soon cut short as André and Firmin returned.

"Alright girls it's over now, please continue to practice your dancing for the meantime." Madame Giry's icy tone swept over the few whispers. Obediently, the girls resumed their dancing in silence.

Madame Giry strode over to where André and Firmin were standing pointing and discussing the event that had occurred a few minutes previously. "Messieur's, may I please have a word?" She asked sternly.

"Yes of course Madame, what is it?" Replied Firmin.

Madame Giry held out her hand in which she held a faint yellow envelope. André took it from her cautiously, there was no name on the front, however, on the back it was sealed with blood red wax in the shape of a skull.

Both Firmin and André looked at each other, then to Madame Giry, then back at the envelope.

"It's a message from the Opera Ghost," she stated coldly.

André broke the carefully secured wax seal and pulled out the piece of old parchment that was neatly folded inside. Firmin and André's eyes followed the thin, messy scrawl, which lead down the page.

_Gentlemen, _

_Welcome to my Opera House, I trust this letter finds you well as it contains a few instructions, which I believe you need to be aware of, as Lefevre has not told you himself. _

Box 5 is to be kept empty for my use, should you decide to ignore this, you will suffer the consequences of your actions. Also you shall be receiving several more of these letters, they will contain the details of how my Theatre is to be run, as before if you do not obey these words of advice then you will soon see what I mean by consequence.

_Your Obedient Servant,  
O. G_.

P.S. My salary is due at the end of this month, which is 15,556 francs; this will be left in box 5 on the 31st of March.

"WHAT!" Boomed Firmin, his face turned red and contorted with rage as he read the last sentence. "You cannot be bloody serious! That's outrageous!"

"Oh I'll think you will find he is being serious. Monsieur Lefevre used to pay him 20,000 francs a month. He is being lenient with you." Madame Giry said calmly.

"Lenient!" Firmin cried. "I am NOT paying 20,000 francs a month for no reason!"

_Whoever is writing these notes is having a joke surely, and there is no Opera Ghost! If there was then why didn't Lefevre warn us? _He thought angrily. "We have only been here for a day and we are already having people play jokes on us! Well, I will not stand for…"

"Monsieur please can you calm down and lower your voice." Hissed Madame Giry.

A slight pink colour surfaced on Firmin's face. All eyes were on him, he had grown exceedingly loud while shouting that he had drawn attention to himself.

André timidly leaned over to his friend and nervously whispered. "Maybe we had better discuss this matter in private. Madame Giry, would you care to come with us so that you can explain this situation more clearly?"

"Very well monsieur." She turned to Reyer who was busy talking to the orchestra. "Monsieur Reyer could you be so kind as to keep an eye on the girls until we return?" She asked politely. Reyer simply turned round and gave her a nod before resuming his talk with the orchestra.

Firmin, André and Madame Giry then headed up the main aisle, with Firmin still holding the letter he had received very tightly in his hand, their voices trailing behind them as they walked through the main doors leaving the dancers free to whisper again.

"I don't think the backdrop falling on Carlotta was an accident Christine, I think it was _him _The Phantom of the Opera." Meg said excitedly.

"Oh Meg you assume too much." She replied, clearly fed up with all the Phantom rumors going around.

"Do I?" She said with a smile. "I reckon he couldn't stand Carlotta's awful singing, that's why he tried to shut her up by smothering her with the canvas!" She began to giggle.

Christine couldn't help but smirk at that remark, as she did agree with it. "But Joseph Bouquet said there was no one up there, he didn't see anything so how could it of been _him_?"

"No one ever sees the Phantom as he…" Meg began.

"That's the point Meg, no one has ever seen him…" She said rather irritably. "How can anyone know for sure if the 'Phantom' even exists?"

_They are all obsessed with this Opera Ghost, and now Meg! I thought of all people she would be the one not to believe it, but she talks about 'him' as if he's some sort of angel._ She thought.

"Well if that's what you want to believe… did you see the manager? He was furious when he read the letter!" Whispered Meg.

"Yes I did, they've only been here for a day too!" Christine giggled at the thought and also of the look on the managers' face when he finished reading the letter.

_Is that partly the reason why Lefevre retired? Because of the money he was paying? Or was it really his health?_ She began to ponder over this question, when the main doors flew open and the managers strode down the aisle, Madame Giry in their wake, quieter than when they had left.

Upon seeing Madame Giry enter the other girls immediately resumed their dancing, however Meg and Christine were so deep in conversation that they failed to notice her return.

"MEG GIRY!" she shouted at her daughter, making both Meg and Christine jump with fright. "Why aren't you practicing? The performance is tomorrow night, have you perfected the dance yet?" She was now standing above them, giving Meg a piercing look.

"Umm … not really mother." She replied in a faint whisper.

"Well don't you think you should at least try for tomorrow?" Snapped Madame Giry, and without another word, Meg hurried over to where the other dancers stood practicing the routine.

Madame Giry's eyes followed her daughter then traveled to meet Christine's. She looked at her with a curiosity for a moment before saying. "My dear would you come with me please?"

Christine took Madame Giry's outstretched hand. They then walked over to where the managers stood. The managers seemed to be discussing how they were going to find a replacement for Carlotta as Reyer had told them that: 'There is no understudy for La Carlotta!'

"Christine Daae could sing it messieurs, she has been well taught." Madame Giry said confidently.

"What? A chorus girl?" André said surprised. "Don't be si…"

"She has been taking lessons from a great teacher." Madame Giry told them, cutting André off.

"Ok then, well…" He turned to face Christine. "Don't be shy my dear… come on." André said to Christine softly.

"André, this is doing nothing for my nerves." Firmin whispered.

André had grown tired of Firmin and his nerves. "Don't fret, Richard." He reassured him.

They looked to where Christine was standing ready to sing.

"From the beginning of the aria then please mademoiselle." Reyer instructed her.


	4. The Gala

**Chapter 4- The Gala.**

Christine paced around her room nervously, she still did not know how she had done it, one moment she was just an unnoticed chorus girl, then, all of a sudden, she was playing the lead role in Hannibal!

She clutched the script which Monsieur Reyer had given to her, she was still having difficulty memorising her big aria in act 3, admittedly she had heard it sung by Carlotta countless times, but no matter how hard Christine tried to understand her it still sounded like all of the chorus girls had described her, a load of noise that made no sense.

She looked back down at the script, which was currently opened at page one hundred and twenty. Trying desperately not to think about Carlotta's awful singing, which made memorising the song about 100 times more difficult, she concentrated desperately, trying not to look down at the script. After a while, she attempted the song:

**Think of me**

**Think of me softly**

**When you said goodbye…**

That could not be right… She looked back down at her script. Two mistakes…

_AAAAAARRRRGGGHHHH, the performance is tonight, and I can't even memorise the first verse, bloody toad, why did they even employ her in the first place!_

She tried to concentrate on the script, but this time, instead of visions of Carlotta interrupting her concentration, it was Meg's musings. Now that she thought about it more and more, the reason that she was playing the lead seemed to lead back to the mysterious 'Phantom'.

It all seemed to fit. She remembered the first time Meg had told her about the Opera Ghost, and how she had said that her mother believed in him. Could it be possible that Madame Giry had been under instructions from the Phantom to make sure that once Carlotta had left, Christine secured the lead role?

_But why would the 'Opera Ghost' want me to sing the lead…_

Christine froze, the thoughts of the upcoming performance had struck her once more, and here she was thinking about the 'Phantom', when she should really be trying to learn 'Think of me'. She pushed both toad and ghost out of her mind, took one last look at her script, and then attempted the second verse.

**Remember me**

**Once in a While**

**Please Promise me**

**You'll try**

Yes! That was right, she was at last getting somewhere.

_Well, toad may be able to memorise it but at least I can sing it._

This thought gave Christine a big confidence boost, and with a final look at her script, she attempted the song through from the beginning…

Meg stood outside Christine's door, listening as the sound of an angel singing softly hit her ears.

_Christine truly does have the voice of an angel, better than that wretched Carlotta! Did the Phantom deliberately attempt to get rid of Carlotta so Christine could replace her?_

A hand was placed suddenly on Meg's right shoulder; she wheeled round to face her mother.

"Come Meg" Madame Giry indicated the corridor, which lead back to the main theatre.

"But mother, just listen to her, she is perfect." Meg replied in a daze.

"Yes, she certainly has talent but we should leave her to practise, which is what you are meant to be doing." She gave her daughter a stern look. "Now!"

Meg sighed and walked past her mother, then began to follow the cold corridor. Madame Giry followed briskly, their footsteps echoing as they quickened their pace.

_Maybe mother knows something about the phantom.,Should I ask? I think perhaps that wouldn't be wise, but what if the phantom… no that couldn't be so! _Meg was trying desperately to decide whether to ask her mother or not.

"Mother, is the Phantom involved with Christine replacing Carlotta in tonight's Gala? And how come you gave that note to the managers yesterday?" Meg said it quickly and almost inaudible.

Madame Giry stopped dead still; she had gone a ghostly white. She replied in a hiss. "You ask too many questions child, walls do have ears you know."

Meg opened her mouth to argue but knew very well this was an unwise course of action as she would only get her head bitten off, she decided to drop the conversation.

"Go on ahead Meg, I shall be there in a moment." Madame Giry instructed Meg.

Meg nodded and continued to her destination leaving her mother standing alone in the corridor, Madame Giry waited until she could no longer hear her footsteps, then turned round and headed back towards Christine's room.

**Of me…!**

Yes! She had done it.

_Take that Madame Toad!_

In what seemed like absolutely no time at all, Christine had memorized 'Think of Me', the only regret that she had now is that she could not see the look on Carlotta's face when she heard her sing.

She paced around her room, feeling more confident about the upcoming Gala than she had with any other production; she went over to her dressing table and set the now closed script down on the table.

She turned round and looked at her room. For one wild moment, she thought that she had heard voices. She shrugged this idea off though, because, as she strained her ears to try and hear anything, she heard nothing.

She turned back to her dresser, but almost immediately spun back around again. There was no mistaking it. She had definitely heard some voices this time. Slowly and silently she walked back over to the door and pressed her ear against it.

"But you could have killed her!" To Christine's complete surprise, it was Madame Giry's voice. She sounded, half angry, half fearful. Christine pressed her ear even closer to the door. From what she could hear, Madame Giry was having a conversation with herself. "Yes, I agree that she is a definite improvement over Carlotta, but what will the managers think?" There was definitely a note of panic in her voice now.

Christine went to open her door, so as to catch Madame Giry and her mystery guest by surprise; and she threw open the door in one quick movement…

There was absolutely no-one there. Still convinced that she had heard her, she walked on down the corridor. She was on the verge of giving up when, quite suddenly, she heard Madame Giry's voice again.

"Listen to me, the managers are going to be questioning me as to why I recommended Christine. So you tell me, what am I supposed to say?" She could see her now, she was looking directly up at somebody she could not see, for he or she was standing just round a corner and out of sight.

That was it. She could not stand it any longer and she did something that was very brave, but also very stupid. She marched straight up to where Madame Giry was, and peered round the corner…

Now feeling both very confused, and very stupid, she looked upon an empty space. "Who were you talking t…"

"That is none of your business Mademoiselle Daae." Said Madame Giry, cutting Christine off before she had chance to finish her question.

"I heard you, I saw you talking to…to…" Her voice trailed off weakly. She knew before Madame Giry had even begun her answer that this was going to be one of those battles that she could not win.

"You saw no-one, and you will therefore return to your dormitory and practice. This is nothing that concerns you my dear." Her voice was stern at first, but there was a note of comfort in her voice when she had finished.

"I heard my name…"

"Enough! Enough..." Madame Giry let out a long, slow sigh. "Please do not worry yourself with this Christine. I can assure you that it is nothing to be concerned about and you should therefore use your remaining time before tonight's Gala to practice. How is your aria coming on?"

"I've memorised it. I just need to get the ending right." Said Christine, sounding defeated. At last, Madame Giry smiled.

"Glad to hear it. I know you are going to be brilliant for tonight and so I won't feel any guilt in not wishing you luck." And with that, she led Christine back to her room, looking as if a terrible weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Christine stood over the fireplace. She felt very tired. The words which Madame Giry had spoken to someone raced through her mind.

_Who was she talking to? There was no one there, but then that… could it of been him? _

Christine's eyes grew heavy. She longed to sleep for just a little while but forced herself to stay awake.

_You've done it Christine. Have a little rest. You will probably feel and perform better when you next practise. No I have to be perfect. Oh for goodness sake, a little shuteye never did any harm._

She went over to her mirror and looked at her reflection. She sighed deeply. "Well I do look tired maybe I should lie down for a while." She said, thinking out loud.

She walked over to where her bed was at the back of the room. She carefully sat down and then allowed her body to flop backwards, her head hitting the soft pillows. She gazed up at the ceiling, too tired to think, and felt her eyes growing heavier and heavier as minutes passed.

She continued to stir in her drowsy state. Many things were going through her mind making her restless. A soft sound came drifting into her room and as it reached her ears it was clear that this sound was a song.

**Night-time sharpens,  
heightens each sensation . . .  
Darkness stirs and  
wakes imagination . . .  
Silently the senses  
abandon their defences . . .**

This song was familiar to her.

"Angel?" she whispered her lips barely moving.

Her body had now completely relaxed with the only movement coming from her being the rise and fall of her chest. The song continued.

**Close your eyes and surrender**

**to your darkest dreams!  
Purge your thoughts of the life  
you knew before!  
Close your eyes, let your spirit  
start to soar!  
And you'll live as you've never  
lived before . . .**

Subconsciously her mind was listening to the song. It was beautiful and who or what ever was producing it made it sound so peaceful and compassionate that anyone listening would probably fall in love with it too.

Unable to fight it any longer, she surrendered to her tiredness and fell asleep. The song finished…

**You alone can make my song take flight -  
help me make the music of the night.**

**-**

"Well André, I think that we have made quite a discovery with Miss Daae." Firmin said confidently to his colleague.

"Hmmm, I think you mean that Madame Giry made quite a discovery with Miss Daae, and we were very fortunate that she recommended her to us." Replied André with a faint note of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke.

Firmin paced around the manager's office. It wasn't what you would call a very big room, but the comforts it had were more than enough to make up for this. At the back of the room was a desk, which was currently littered with pieces of parchment. The piece on top appeared to be a receipt and scratched across it were the words 'Full House'.

Firmin looked over at André, he pondered for a moment on what he was going to say, until he said. "Yes, very fortunate, I couldn't stand that awful Carlotta."

"I agree." Said André. He sounded very half hearted when he spoke. However, he knew what Firmin was going to say before he said it.

"So what have you learned?" Asked Firmin, clearly savouring the moment to its fullest.

"That I'm not always right?" It was not so much a question, more a sort of, 'please shut up'.

"That's right, now getting off of that subject, I think that… Good heavens look at the time!" Bellowed Firmin, pointing dramatically at a clock that hung just above a large oil painting.

André glanced over at the clock, which showed that it was 7pm. "We only have an hour until the Gala starts." André said hysterically, now pacing over to the desk and sorting out the papers, as if he was looking for something to do.

They both hurried out of the door and walked briskly down the corridor, until they suddenly remembered that they had only been there for a day, and were not entirely sure where to go.

"Which way is the main theatre?" Firmin asked André, trying to sound calm. André looked up at him, it was apparent that he has forgotten the way too. He thought for a moment, then…

"It's this way, follow me messieurs." Madame Giry had just appeared from round a corner, they were both too pleased to see her to ask her what she was doing there. "Personally however, I do not see what the rush is. The performance does not start for another two hours."

"Two hours did you say?" Firmin asked curiously.

"But of course no-one told you!" Cried Madame Giry, clapping a hand to her forehead. "The time has been changed from 8pm to 9pm messieurs. I am very sorry. I was going to have Meg tell you…" She trailed off as she remembered the conversation she had had with Meg.

"No harm done my good woman." André said cheerfully to Madame Giry. "I don't suppose you could write down some directions for a bit nearer the time?"

"Of course monsieur André." And with that, they went back to the manager's office.

Firmin handed her the piece of parchment, which said 'Full House' on it. Gave her a quill and some ink, and she scribbled down some directions to the main theatre.

-

Christine rolled onto her side, and opened her eyes slowly. She yawned deeply and stretched upwards. She sat up slowly blinking trying to regain focus and awaken properly.

_I needed that._ She thought.

She remembered a song that had been playing just before she fell asleep. Well she was quite sure that she heard a song.

_That song? Father? The Angel of music? _She began to weep softly, as she recalled one of the last things her father had told her before he died. _When I am in heaven child, I will send the Angel of music to you_. Her father had gone and she was pretty certain that the angel of music had sung that song.

_Lets run through 'think of me' once more for luck. _She glanced over at the clock on the mantel piece, it read 8.30. _Oh HELL! The performance starts in 30 minutes and I'm not even in costume._ She threw the door open and sprinted down the corridor and headed towards the dressing rooms.

She ran and thought that on the way she saw somebody who looked the same size as Piangi, but had no time to investigate. She had to get to the dressing rooms, get changed into her costume and if possible run through 'Think of Me' one last time before the performance.

"Christine, where have you been?" Meg was waiting in the dressing rooms. Evidently she had arrived late as well. "Did you see Piangi? I bet he's spying to see if you're any good…which you are." She added hastily. "I heard you practicing. You have the voice of an angel!"

_Angel…angel…_ Christine was thinking about her father again, but knew that she shouldn't be and that she had to be focused for the Gala.

"Here, get changed." Said Meg, and she handed Christine her costume for act 1.

"MEG GIRY!" Madame Giry had entered the dressing rooms. "Why aren't you stretching?"

"Well…I…Christine was…" Meg spluttered.

"Get out there now!" Meg did not need telling twice. She scuttled out of the dressing rooms, and over to the metal bar where the rest of the dancers were. "Christine why are you late?" Madame Giry asked. There was a note of urgency in her voice.

"I was practicing, and then…well, I had a…nap." She finished her sentence rather lamely.

"Do not worry about it now, get changed girl!" She sounded quite hysterical now.

Christine went over to a fold out screen, walked behind it, then got changed into her dress, she needed help with the corset, which was impossible to lace herself.

"You look magnificent!" Beamed Madame Giry. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm…" She was about to say… 'Fine', but found that she couldn't. "I'm going to muck it up I just know it!" She was on the verge of tears.

"You'll be fine my dear. It's normal to be nervous if it's your first time playing the lead role." She went over and patted Christine on the back. "Now, go out there and make your father proud young lady!" Her voice was encouraging and gave Christine just the morale boost she needed. Act One then began…

Two hours later, the curtain for Act Three was rising. Box 5 was now occupied by a tall, slim man, dressed in an evening suit and with the cape to match. He had been watching the performance intently, making mental notes of things that must be improved, things that were up to standard, and things that simply had to go. Fortunately, nothing yet had fulfilled the third criteria.

_Right, now for your aria._

There was no doubt about it. He had made the right choice in getting rid of that horrible toad of a woman. Why, the production had to be the best one that the Opera Populaire had seen since before they employed Carlotta!

Christine now walked centre stage. She was smiling, but he could tell that it was not a natural smile. The piano struck up the familiar slow, peaceful tune, and Christine began to sing softly.

**Think of me**

**Think of me fondly**

**When we've said goodbye.**

**Remember me**

**Once in a while**

**Please promise me**

**You'll try**

Her top notes were superb, unlike the horrible screech that Carlotta used to sing.

**When you find**

**That once again you long**

**To take your heart back**

**And be free**

**If you ever find**

**A moment**

**Spare a thought**

**For me**

She was brilliant. The only problem was that she seemed to be horribly aware of the audience.

"Look past the audience." He whispered softly. "Look past them at something that only you can see."

**We never said**

**Our love was evergreen**

**Or as unchanging as the sea**

**But if you can still**

**Remember, stop and think**

**Of me..**

**Think of all the things**

**We've shared and seen**

**Don't think about the way**

**Things might have been**

She was learning to control her nerves as the song went on, which made her singing, if possible, even better than it already was…

**Think of me**

**Think of me waking**

**Silent and Resigned**

**Imagine me**

**Trying too hard **

**To put you from **

**My mind**

**Recall those days**

**Look back on all those times**

**Think of the things**

**We'll never do**

**There will never be**

**A day**

**When I won't think**

**Of you!**

He stood up and applauded with the rest of the audience. Just the last little bit and it would be all over for her, even though he was keen to hear more…

**We never said**

**Our love was evergreen**

**Or as unchanging**

**As the sea**

**But please promise me**

**That sometimes**

**You will think…**

**Oooooooof meeeeeeeeeeeee!**

The audience applauded yet again, more loudly and enthusiastically this time. Hannibal was over. He got up and silently walked back to Christine's room. He went inside, crossed over to her dressing table, and placed a rose, with a piece of black ribbon tied round its stem, and placed a letter on the desk.

Suddenly he heard movement outside the door, and Christine entered. She was exhausted, and he was sure that if it were not for the fact that she was half asleep, she would have noticed him hiding behind the dresser. However, all she did was cross over to her bed and lie down. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.


	5. In Dreams He Came

Chapter 5-In Dreams He Came

Christine was standing on the roof of the Opera Populaire, looking at Paris. It was a cold night; snow had dusted the rooftops of Paris, making it seem like Christmas. She walked over to one of the statues and sat against it. She wished that she had put on something warmer.

Suddenly she heard movement; somebody was on the rooftop besides her. She got to her feet, and looked around for her visitor. "Who's there?" She called into the night. There was no answer, and she called again. "Who's there?" She sounded frightened this time.

Instead of somebody calling back, she heard the sound of a violin playing; it was a slow, peaceful tune. Christine tried to think where she had heard that song before. She could not think however; her brain seemed to be working twice as slow.

"…Father?" The sound of the violin ceased immediately and the sound of footsteps once again reached her ears.

A man, tall and slim emerged from behind one of the statues; even at a distance she could tell who it was…

"My child..." Whispered Gustav Daae, Christine started to run towards him.

"Father!" She shouted, but as soon as she got to him… He vanished. "What? No! Come back!" She screamed to the still night air.

The sound of the violin resumed once more, but this time, instead of calling out, she decided to search the rooftops for the source of the music. She searched, and searched, but found nothing, yet still the sound of the violin continued. Resigned to the fact that the violinist was not on the roof, she went and opened the door back down to the main theatre.

_Maybe there is an orchestra rehearsal going on in the theatre…_ This idea was immediately squashed however, when she saw that the time was one in the morning.

Still the sound of the violin played, and at last she remembered where she had heard the song before. As if the violinist had read her mind, a familiar voice started to sing along with the tune…

**Night time, sharpens**

**Heightens each sensation**

**Darkness stirs **

**And wakes imagination.**

At once, Christine started to feel drowsy, but she could not fall asleep, she had to find out who was playing this song. She was in the main theatre now, but still no sign of the mysterious violinist.

Then she remembered. "Angel?" She whispered to the apparently empty theatre.

There was no sound, simply her heavy breathing from the inner excitement, which flooded through her.

The corner of her eye caught something moving at the back of the theatre. It looked like a figure moving near to one of the side exits near to it.

"WAIT!" she cried and began to run towards it. She stopped and studied the dark corner. She could see nothing. Her vision was not adjusted to such darkness.

"Christine… my child…" That soft voice of her father spoke to her again.

She strained her ears to listen to where the voice was coming from, but she still couldn't tell.

"I am your angel of music. Follow the voice that you hear." The voice called to her.

She looked around, still unable to see anything, but heard the song, which she knew very well.

Slowly, gently  
night unfurls its splendour . . .  
Grasp it, sense it -  
tremulous and tender . . .

The voice seemed to be drifting away from her. She obeyed what the voice had told her and followed the sound, and it seemed to be leading her back to her room.

The voice quietened down slightly. Christine thought it was going to stop singing.

"Please continue," she pleaded. "My Angel of Music" she added quietly.

**Softly, deftly music shall caress you...  
Hear it, feel it secretly possess you...**

After what seemed like an eternity of following the corridor. She felt the handle of her door and opened it slowly; she crossed the threshold of her room and gently shut it behind her. She walked to her bed, and lay down.

The song ended with:

**Help me make the music of the night...**

She turned her head and looked at the mirror to find that she was staring into two bright blue shining eyes which were boring back into hers.

Christine woke with a start.

"It was a dream." She said to herself quietly. "It was a dream, and nothing more."

She got up and stretched, trying to recall the exact details of the dream she had. She was on a rooftop and then she saw her father and saw…

_A pair of starling blue eyes, in the mirror._ She thought to herself, instinctively looking at the large mirror, which was built in to her wall.

"Christine!" shouted a voice through her door, which burst open to reveal Meg. "You were fantastic!" She said, throwing her arms around Christine. However she did not take her eyes off of the mirror. "Are you feeling OK?"

Christine gave her head a little shake, so as to wake herself up. "What? Yes I'm fine. I suppose it's just all this excitement has made me a little..." She thought for a second. "Ill." She finished rather lamely.

"Yes, you don't look so good. You look as though you've seen a ghost!" Christine took another glance at the mirror. Now that she looked at her face; she saw that she had indeed gone ghostly white.

"I'm fine." She repeated. "I just need to wake up a bit, bad dream." Hoping Meg was not going to ask her what her dream was about. She walked over to the mirror, apparently studying her own reflection.

"Oh, OK!" Meg said happily. "I'll leave you alone then shall I?" Now sounding rather hurt.

"I'm sorry Meg. I just need to sort some things out in my mind." And with that, Meg turned around and walked out of the door.

As soon as she had left, Christine went to her door and locked it, then went back to the Mirror. It looked just like a mirror should. You looked at it and saw your reflection. Christine now ran a hand round the frame of the mirror.

_What are you feeling a mirror frame for?_ Now that she thought that in her head, she noticed just how funny it would look to anybody if they walked in and caught her doing this.

"There must be some…sort…of." She thought out loud, now she tried pulling the frame towards her.

For nearly an hour she stood at the mirror, trying to find anything special about it. But no matter how hard she pushed, pulled, lifted, yelled at or examined the frame, she could find nothing. She was now thinking that the only way to tell for sure if there was anything special about it was to break it, then she thought rationally, what would people think if they found out that Christine Daae, the new Prima Donna, had smashed a mirror for no apparent reason.

She went and sat back down on her bed, studying the mirror. Perhaps that's what it was, just a mirror. A normal mirror that just happened to be on her wall. Then her eyes fell on something that she had not noticed. On her desk she saw a red rose on top of a pale yellow envelope. Christine got up and walked over to her desk, sitting down on a chair in front of it.

First she picked up the rose, being careful not to prick her fingers on the thorns. Now that she saw it closer, she noticed that it had a black ribbon tied round its stem. Christine carefully placed it in her hair, and examined the effect in the 'mirror'. It needed a bit of adjusting before she achieved the effect that she wanted, but there were more important matters for her to consider.

Satisfied with the way it looked, she now focused on the envelope, on the back was a deep crimson seal, and on the front were the words. 'The New Prima Donna.' Carefully tearing off the red wax seal, she opened the letter, unfolded it, and began to read…

_My Dear Miss Daae,_

_I wish to congratulate you on your performance in Hannibal. You were truly stunning and you most definitely had the voice of a true angel. I know that that was your first main role in a production and most certainly you are going to be nervous facing an audience as large as that one, but you faced it with courage which is very pleasing to see in one so young._

_To prepare you for any future performances I would like to help you by giving you private singing lessons as soon as possible. Wait for me in your room at 9pm tonight. Make sure that you are alone and you speak of this to no one._

_Until then get plenty of rest._

_Your Angel_

Christine read through the letter several times. It looked similar to the writing that she had caught a glimpse of when the managers were reading that letter.

_If it's the same writing … then that means it's **him.**_

Christine removed the rose from her hair and inhaled the scent of it. It was sweet and fresh. She looked at it fondly for a moment before placing it back into her hair, securing it tightly.

_He was watching. He thinks I did well, but how did he know I was nervous? And why does he wish to tutor me himself?_

Several thoughts flashed through her mind. She glanced at the note again before re-folding it and carefully placing it back into the envelope. She then went to put it into a drawer by her bed.

She slammed the drawer shut quickly as there was a little knock on the door. She caught the finger in the drawer as she slammed it shut.

"Aargh" she yelped and put her finger to her mouth. "Come in.," she said in a muffled tone.

The door opened and as she had suspected, it was Meg. She walked in timidly. "Christine are you OK? I heard you yell." She asked full of concern.

"Oh it was nothing Meg I just caught my finger. I suppose I was startled by the knock on the door, that's all." She said with a tone of pain in her voice as her finger had begun to throb.

"Let me have a look." Meg requested. "Oh no, oh Christine I'm really very sorry" she said weakly.

"Meg, it's not your fault, and I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to be off with you. I was just tired that's all." She said softly.

She looked at Meg, who seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Oh come here," Christine whispered.

The two embraced each other, tightly. "You truly were magnificent last night, it was so amazing, unlike that horrid old windbag that used to sing it!" Meg whispered, trying to make up for making Christine shut her finger in her desk drawer.

They released each other and began to giggle happily.

"Hey, let's just enjoy the time we have off until we have another performance OK?" Christine asked.

"Yes, let's do that. We've been working so hard recently for Hannibal that I think we all deserve it." She replied.

Christine noticed that Meg's eyes had left hers, and that she was now focused on her hair.

"Wow!" Meg exclaimed. "That is such a pretty rose. It looks lovely in your hair, and it looks fresh too."

___The rose! I forgot I left it in my hair, Meg is now going to ask questions, I can hardly tell her _**he**_ gave it to me. But maybe I could tell her, she's my best friend and I know she wouldn't tell. But he did say in the letter not to tell anyone, and I don't think it's very wise to go against his wishes and from what I've heard he has killed people who have betrayed him._

This thought made the colour drain from Christine's face.

"Well, who gave you the rose?" Meg inquired.

"I don't know it was just there when I came in last night," she said rather quickly.

"I see." Meg said curiously. She noticed Christine's finger. "Oh my God, your finger has turned purple! And it's really badly swollen," She said, thoroughly alarmed. Come, lets go and see mother. She will be able to help."

She helped Christine up. They linked arms, and headed to Madame Giry's room.

They spent most of their walk to Madame Giry's room talking about the Gala, insulting Carlotta, and inevitably discussing the Opera Ghost.

"If he was the reason that you took over from Carlotta then I would like to know how he knew you could sing." Meg said, turning the corner and walking down the corridor, where Madame Giry's room could be found.

"Yeah that is weird." Answered Christine. She had never thought about this before, but now that Meg expressed it, it did seem rather funny, after all. Christine had only ever sung while she was alone. Nobody could have told him. Nobody even knew him!

They had reached the door to Madame Giry's room. Meg reached out and knocked on the door three times…There was no answer. She knocked again. They waited outside her door for about 2 minutes, then decided that she must be elsewhere, even though there were no dancing rehearsals to instruct now that Hannibal had finally finished.

"It's ok Meg, look, my finger is looking loads better now." Christine said, holding out her finger for Meg to look at.

This was half true, it had regained a bit of its natural colour, and the swelling had improved greatly.

"If you're sure…so where did you get the rose?" It was not going to be easy to get Meg off this subject; Christine tried to think something up.

"Somebody from the audience threw it onto the stage and it caught on my dress. I saw it and decided to keep it." She knew that this would not pass the Meg test, but she thought that it sounded reasonable anyway.

"Okay! Well, I'll see you tomorrow Christine." She did not sound completely convinced, but now that she thought about it, she could have told her that story without telling a lie first.

Christine looked down at her watch, and was shocked to see that it was already five to nine. She only had five minutes to get back to her room before her lesson started. What would her teacher, who she was now sure was the 'Opera Ghost', say if she was late for her first ever lesson.

She ran as fast as she could back to her room. It was lucky that Madame Giry's room was not too far from hers, yet still it would be a close call as to whether she would get back in time or not.

She reached her room with about two minutes to spare. She locked the door behind her and pressed her back against it It felt frightfully cold.

Christine stood still for a moment then walked slowly to the middle of the room . Removing the rose from her hair, she held it close to her examining it with her fingers. Her fingers found the Black ribbon still tied round its stem. Her face showed a little smile.

A voice suddenly broke the silence. "So, you like the rose then?" It said.

This voice that suddenly came from nowhere, startled Christine. She dropped the rose, the thorn catching her palm leaving a faint red mark where it had scratched her pale skin.

"Yes, it's beautiful." She said to an apparently empty room.

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." The voice said apologetically.

The voice seemed to be coming from all around the room. It was comforting but at the same time had a cold tone; this caused Christine's hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.

"I trust you read my note as well?" The voice asked, still no way of telling where it was coming from.

"Yes, I was wondering, what am I going to be singing now that the production is over?" She sounded very eager while saying this, which made his next words disappoint her a little..

"Firstly we have to get your voice warmed up, so that you do not strain your voice while singing the higher notes." Christine remembered how her throat had ached for several hours after the performance, but tried to push this to the back of her mind. "I would like you to sing the first five notes of this scale…" He demonstrated a rising sequence of the first 5 notes in the C major scale on a violin. "Singing oooh while ascending and aaah while descending." He played the notes descending so that she was perfectly clear in what she was doing.

"I understand." Said Christine, making sure that she understood everything before she attempted it.

"Very good, here is your starting note again…" He played a C on the violin. "And after four, 1…2…3…4." He played the melody, and Christine sang along to it, finishing with an oooh rather than an aaah, as it was more comfortable, her teacher said nothing of this.

"You need to stand up straighter, you're constricting your stomach if your slouching." His voice sounded stern, yet also calm, Christine stood up straight immediately.

_Great, so you can see me…hmmm…best not to press the matter._

"Lets try it again, 1…2…3…4." Again he played, and again she sang, a bit better this time. "Breathe from your stomach. You will be able to sing louder." This request stumped Christine for a moment, then she tensed her stomach muscles and tried to breath from it, it was difficult at first, her teacher seemed to be waiting until she was comfortable with it.

Again and again she tried, 'Open your mouth wider, let more sound out.' This particular order made her feel a bit uncomfortable, being told to open her mouth made her feel like a Carlotta getting ready to swallow a particularly juicy fly.

Christine looked at the time. She had been singing for an hour. Unable to stop herself, she yawned widely. "I think we will leave it there for tonight, we will do that warm-up in different keys for the first ten minutes of every lesson. Make sure you get plenty of rest." There was a sound of a violin case being clicked shut. "Until tomorrow night then…"

"What's your name?" Asked Christine. She couldn't stop herself, after all, it would be ridiculous to go through all of their lessons without her knowing his name.

He hesitated for a minute, then said, in a quiet voice. "My name is Erik."

"Erik." Whispered Christine, as if she was listening to see how it sounded when she said it.

Erik had turned to leave. A sudden warmth had flowed through him when she had said his name. It was something about hearing his name said by someone else. It made him feel…as if at last he was not alone. "Same time tomorrow then?" He said, in a rather lighter voice.

"Of course!" She said, also rather happily.

Erik turned and walked down the pathway to his lair. Her voice still in his head, whispering the word 'Erik'.


	6. The Phantoms Warning

Chapter 6- The Phantom's Warning

Christine went and sat on her bed. Her first singing lesson with the phantom had gone reasonably well.

_I must try harder, for his… Erik's sake_. She thought.

He had given her his name, unknown by anyone else that she knew of. That must have meant he trusted her. She wished that he had played that song she loved and knew so well, but knew better than to ask.

She couldn't sleep, a mixture of emotions which she couldn't work out, flooded through her.

She began to pace the room.

_I hope he was pleased with what I could do; maybe he thinks I'm terrible. But his voice... it's like the one I heard in my dream. He must be my angel. The one that father sent. But how could he be._

Christine lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Her concentration broke when she heard a violin playing.

She smiled and sat back up.

"Please lie down." Erik's voice whispered. "You need your sleep. It's late. I kept you up for too long."

Christine did as he instructed. She shut her eyes and listened to the violin. His voice drifted over the top softly.

"Erik?" she asked timidly. The violin continued to play.

Erik was trying to keep his emotions intact. The way she had just said his name made his heart beat a lot faster. He had started to sing along with the violin, but his throat dried up and he could not speak. It was like a rope had been wrapped tightly around his neck stopping words escaping from his mouth.

"Erik?" Christine called his name again only her voice sounded slightly worried. This he did not want to cause.

"I'm here." He replied, his throat feeling slightly freer than before.

"Why did you stop singing?" She asked.

Erik tried to think of something reasonable to say. He did not want her to know how he felt about her just yet, and not hint anything either.

"I'm sorry. I thought you had fallen asleep." He told her softly.

"No, please continue. You have the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. The way you sing that song, it's most amazing, I could listen to it forever." She said heavily.

Erik did as she asked and continued to sing the song Music of the Night.

**Turn you face away **

**From the garish light of day…**

She continued to drift between reality and dreams as the words hit her like waves on the sand. Eventually, she drifted off into sleep, Erik seemed to notice, because the second she fell asleep, he packed his violin away into its case, and again walked back down to his lair.

_She thinks I have an amazing voice…well who'd have thought that?_ Erik continued to think about Christine all the way back to his lair. He was surprised at how quickly he found himself standing in front of the boat which would take him back to his lair. He got in it, and started to row.

His thoughts about Christine stayed with him all the way across the underground lake. He kept thinking about the way that she used his name. She treated it just as delicately as the songs that she sang. His boat now approached the portcullis, which guarded his lair; it seemed to automatically open on his approach.

The boat went through, and the portcullis dropped down behind him. Once the boat had reached the shore, he stepped out and moved over to his desk. There was one last thing he had to do before he could be sure of Christine securing the lead role. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out some ink, parchment and a quill. Dipping the quill into the ink, he began to write.

_My managers,_

_Word has reached me of a new production that you have planned to perform in a few months time. From my understanding this production is known as Il Muto, in which you have planned to give Carlotta the main role should you persuade her to take the part after last time. I advise strongly against your decision, as you seem to forget that this is my theatre…_

"And it shall be run the way I want it to be run. Therefore you shall replace Carlotta with Miss Daae and as before box 5 is to be kept empty for my use. If these commands are not obeyed a terrible disaster will occur."

I remain gentlemen, your humble servant… 

"O.G" Firmin read aloud, his face red with rage.

André grabbed the paper from Firmin and began to scan through it. After a few moments of frustrated silence, André looked back up at Firmin who was almost shaking with fury.

"I… err" Andre stuttered, trying to find the right thing to say as it looked as if Firmin might explode.

_Why does he get so wound up by these letters? It's obviously someone playing a joke. _André thought.

"What André!" Firmin spat, his patience wearing very thin.

"What are we going to do about this then?" André inquired.

Firmin turned to face André, his face like thunder. "I'll tell you what we are going to do" Firmin tried his best not to let much more of his anger show at this question. He didn't say anything for a moment, and then ripped the piece of parchment he was holding in two, then crushed it into a ball and threw it onto the fire that was glowing in the fireplace.

André gasped at his partner.

"I will not be made a fool of any longer by this insane maniac who thinks he owns this theatre" Firmin shouted at André.

"So you're not going to take note in his warnings?" André asked.

A woman's voice answered this time. "No I don't believe he is. This is the most foolish decision you can make Messieurs." It was Madame Giry standing in the doorway of the office, her face full of fear and surprise as she spoke.

"And why do you think that?" André asked before Firmin had a chance.

"Because you do not understand that the Opera Ghost is not just a rumour." She started to almost plead with them. "He may go as far as taking another's life, surely you don't want that on your conscience?"

_These fools, he will go as far as killing if they don't obey. I just prey to god they reconsider this course of action. _She thought desperately.

Firmin had had enough of all this nonsense. "Oh God in heaven your obsessed woman!" he yelled at Madame Giry. "There is no such thing as the Phantom!"

Erik, who had been watching them from a secret location in the room, simply chuckled silently at Firmin's disbelief. _Oh there isn't, isn't there? _He thought menacingly. _We'll soon see about that._

He decided to make his presence known. "Your disbelief disappoints me Firmin." His voice echoed around the room.

All three spun around, glancing round the room trying to locate the fourth person who was apparently amongst them.

Erik continued, his voice becoming firmer. "Seeing as my letters do not convince you, maybe you will take my warnings more seriously now that I am speaking to you in person hmm?"

Firmin, André and Madame Giry said nothing, Firmin and André simply looked at each other, shock written in both their faces.

"Thank you, your silence says I'm understood" he said softly. "Madame Giry would you kindly leave the room, as I have some business to discuss with my managers."

Without a moments hesitation Madame Giry swept out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"So?" Erik continued, he seemed rather amused at the looks on both Firmin and André's faces each time he spoke, "Now do you believe in the insane maniac who **does** own the theatre?"

Firmin took a step forward. "Yes I do, I believe that you are a sick pervert who has lost his mind and is totally obsessed with money! You make me sick and your joke has gone on long enough."

"Richard NO!" André bellowed.

Firmin simply smirked, pleased with the way he had handled the so called 'Opera Ghost'.

_Ha! That'll show him, I have stumbled on the truth. Now he will have no choice but to leave us alone, and everyone will love me for it! _Firmin thought proudly.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a rope had dropped out of the ceiling and had wrapped itself tightly around Firmin's neck.

_How dare he say such things, this imbecile has no idea of what he speaks!_

"NO STOP!" André cried. He ran over to Firmin, trying to loosen the rope that was progressively cutting off Firmin's air supply as it tightened.

Erik was seething; he felt his anger steadily rising. His long leather covered fingers curled and gripped the other end of the rope, holding it tight. "The more you attempt to free him, the faster you're killing him." He hissed.

André let go of the rope quickly, leaving Firmin struggling for breath.

"Please stop. We will obey your commands. Just don't kill him. I beg of you" André pleaded.

"You give me your word, do you Monsieur André?" Erik replied.

"Yes, Yes! I give you my word. Everything and anything you command, it shall be done" André stammered quickly.

"So Monsieur Firmin?" Erik whispered dangerously. "I take it you now understand, that when my commands are not taken seriously then disasters will happen. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y... Yes!" Firmin choked.

Erik paused for a few moments, then slowly released his grip on the rope. "You may go and remove the rope from around his neck" he instructed.

André quickly lifted the rope over his head, and Firmin collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. He knelt over him, loosening his tie to allow more breathing room. André stood back up, noting that the rope had somehow disappeared.

"That was not pleasant." Erik whispered. "Next time I would seriously think about what you are going to say before the words come bursting out your mouth. DON'T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!" He bellowed. Causing both Firmin and André to stay rooted to the spot in fear.

His voice now softened when he spoke to them. "You know what I have asked of you for this new production and I shall continue to check and write comments as to what can be improved or anything that needs to be eliminated."

"H… how did you even know about the new production? We had only agreed on it… what… two days ago?" André asked quietly.

"I am the eyes and ears of the Opera House. There is nothing I do not know. You will do well to remember that" he answered. "Now, my good messieurs, I will take my leave, and may I suggest that Miss Daae finds out about your decision as soon as possible, so that she can start practising and I can guarantee this will be the best production you have had in three seasons, Good bye." He said and began to walk back down the corridor.

_That's them sorted for now, at least they will not disobey me. Now I can focus on Christine and help her prepare for the upcoming performance. Hopefully she should receive the good news by tonight, assuming that they have worked out the cast list._

The sounds of the Managers high-pitched, squeaky voices were becoming fainter. He smiled to himself; it gave him great pleasure at how André had begged him for his mercy. His smile faded; he had given Firmin his mercy, previously he would have killed anyone who threw an insult like that without hesitation. What made him stop? He shrugged off this thought, and continued through the cold darkness, now out of earshot of his squeaking guinea pig like managers.

-

In the evening, Messieurs Firmin, André and Reyer and Madame Giry, had arranged for the dancers, musicians and others to come to the main theatre at 8 PM for a special announcement.

Meg and Christine were walking down the marble staircase alongside others who were heading to the same destination.

"Il Muto?" Meg asked. "What's that all about"?

"I'm not sure but I'm sure it will be explained to us. They will probably give us the scripts and read out the cast list" she replied.

They entered the hall, found themselves some seats nearby, and went to sit down.

Christine looked toward the stage, there stood Firmin, André, Reyer and Madame Giry. They all looked rather nervous and edgy. She noticed that several times all four of them would look up toward box 5. Firmin almost had his gaze fixed on the box.

She could hear Carlotta, who amazingly enough had agreed to come. She was talking heartily to Piangi, her shill voice was piercing to those sitting nearby.

I wish she would just shut up for once in her life! She just loves the sound of her own voice. No doubt she will wake the dead with her screech like 'singing' when she gets the main role. She thought irritably. 

"Attention everyone" Firmin called over the sea of whispering heads that filled the red seats. "We have decided on the new production as you know, called Il Muto."

André took over and was telling them the main outline of the story, Meg seemed to be daydreaming. She had taken a guess that she would be cast as one of the dancers and so didn't really need to pay attention to the story.

After 10 minutes Madame Giry handed him a scroll of parchment on which was the cast list.

Andre looked at the list and read out the list for the dancers. Meg looked unamused.

_I know I'm going to be cast as a dancer yet again, surprise surprise, why can't I be cast as something different. I mean I have talked to her about it. I really want to try something new. _She thought looking slightly down.

Andre read out the everlasting list of dancers, and Meg perked up when she noticed her name wasn't read out. She sat on her seat listening intently.

"The maids of the manor…" André began., "…Andrea, Clarissa, Louise, Martina, and Meg."

Megs face broke into a smile. She shot a glance up at her mother up on stage to find she was already looking at her; Madame Giry smiled at her daughter. Meg knew her mother had put in a good word about her and so she had ended up doing something new.

Christine had also been looking edgy; she had noticed the glances that box 5 were getting from the four adults standing onstage.

"The page boy shall be played by…"André broke off, looking at Firmin to make sure to read out what they had cast. Firmin gave a nod and Andre continued.

"La Carlotta." André finished. The colour had gone from his face as soon as the words had left his mouth.

Christine had to quickly cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing at the look on Carlotta's face.

Carlotta had stood up with her mouth wide open. She was gasping in protest at the part she had been given. She stood up fiercely and was now marching over to the stage, Piangi at her heel, roaring along with her.

"And the count and countess of the manor, Piangi and Christine." Andre said very quickly before running behind Firmin, as Carlotta looked as if she was about to hit him repeatedly with her fan that she grasped very tightly had in her hand.

_Me? Countess? Erik will be so pleased when I tell him the good news. Even though Carlotta doesn't agree. _Christine thought happily, tears forming in her eyes.

She looked up at the stage where Madame Giry was desperately trying to stop Carlotta, Piangi and the managers from having a catfight. She noticed that Reyer had run away, which she thought was the best thing to do; she got out of her seat and retired to her room.

-

Christine entered her room, shut the door and locked it quickly behind her. She didn't want to be disturbed just for the moment. She pressed her back against the door, slid down into a ball and rested her head on her knees, tears streaming down her pale face.

A voice reached her ears; it was Erik.

"My dear child, why are you crying?" He whispered softly.

Her face broke into a smile; tears still welling in her emerald green eyes.

"It's nothing. It's good news actually. I'm just being silly." She replied quietly.

"What news may this be my angel." He asked her softly.

Christine was so happy; all she wanted to say came out of her mouth at once, "I got the main part as the countess and Carlotta was not happy. She was screaming at the managers and she sounded a bit like a strangled cat and Piangi wasn't happy either, but she tried to hit one of the managers, so he went and hid behind the other. It looked very funny, the look on her face, the stupid toad, she loves the sound of her own voice and the way she sings is enough to wake the dead." Christine began to laugh hysterically.

Erik was chuckling silently too. He loved the way she laughed. It made him glow, something he would never have thought possible.

"Well I congratulate you, and it's nothing to cry about." He told her coolly. "Would you like me to help you practise?"

"Yes please, but would you mind if I started tomorrow?" She asked.

"Of course not." He replied. "I'll come at this time tomorrow then?"

"Yes please, I think I need to just…" She stammered trying to explain.

"…Get over your excitement." He finished for her. "That's perfectly understandable. You look tired. I suggest that you get an early night as your rehearsals start tomorrow."

"Yes I will." She yawned heavily and stretched. "Goodnight Erik, pleasant dreams." She said sleepily.

"Goodnight, my angel." He replied softly.

She climbed into bed, and he began to play the violin for her.

Her eyes fluttered at the beautiful sound, after what seemed only minutes all she could remember was the black she could see as she drifted off into her dreams.

Erik placed the violin in its case, and looked back up at his sleeping angel. "Sweet dreams." He whispered before blowing her a kiss.

He picked up his violin case and continued his dark travel back to his home.


	7. The Secret Passage

Chapter 7- The Secret Passage

Christine awoke to find a slither of light, which was beaming through the fine gap in the curtains, shining onto her face.

She sat up. Memories of the previous evening flooded back to her. She smiled sweetly.

Rehearsals for Il Muto start today, Oh I can't wait to see Carlotta's costume… 

A faint 'Meow' startled her. Her eyes travelled to the floor and in the middle sat a black cat. Its fur was long and sleek and shone beautifully and it seemed quite young. It looked up to her with its lamp-like yellow eyes.

"Hello, where did you come from?" She said sweetly. The cat walked over and jumped up on the bed, rubbing its head against Christine's arm attentively.

"Ahh, you're cute aren't you now?" She said with a smile.

Christine had always been very fond of cats, and this one seemed to be very fond of her. It had now curled up in her lap and was purring softly.

A voice called Christine's name through the door.

Christine sighed silently before answering. "Come in Meg."

The door creaked open and Meg's head popped round it. The cat's head bolted upright looking sharply towards Meg's head which looked as though it was suspended in mid-air.

"Sorry Christine, I thought I heard you talking to someone." The rest of her body emerged from behind the door.

"Oh, I was umm…" Christine stuttered, her face turning slightly pink.

"Well who's this then?" Meg asked. She had obviously spotted the cat.

"I don't know." Christine replied. "She was just on my floor this morning when I woke up."

"She's very cute. I didn't know anyone here had a cat." Meg said looking at the cat curiously.

"I don't think anyone does." She said.

"How do you know it's a she anyway?" Meg asked.

"I just know. She looks female." Christine replied.

A rather fearful voice came from the doorway and interrupted their conversation.

"Miss Daae." Madame Giry said sternly. "Why is that cat in your room?"

"She was just here when I woke up." Christine replied innocently.

"I see. You do know that rehearsals start in 15 minutes, and I don't expect you to be late, nor do I expect to see that cat in your room again." Madame Giry said sharply.

The cat hissed at Madame Giry and she scuttled out of the room rather quickly.

"Mother is superstitious about black cats." Meg informed her friend. They were both trying not to laugh. "Come on, you had better get dressed. I'll meet you down there OK?"

"OK, see you then." She answered.

With that Meg disappeared out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Christine lifted the cat gently off her lap and placed her down on the floor.

"Well, you don't have a collar, but if nobody claims you I'll look after you myself, despite Madame Giry's disapproval." She said softly.

The cat looked at the clock on her bedside table causing Christine to gasp.

"Oh no! I'm going to be late." She cried as she read the time.

With that she quickly changed into some more appropriate clothes, and hurried out of the door.

-

Christine ran down the corridors, took first left, then second on the right and hurried down some stairs. _Madame Giry is going to have my head! _She gulped at the thought.

Christine arrived backstage and peered round the curtains, her eyes scanning the stage. She was watching her instructor teaching the ballet girls their dancing, and Reyer as usual was giving his orchestra a pep talk.

She attempted to sneak onstage, hoping that Madame Giry had not taken account of her being late, but she already knew that this was a vain hope. Madame Giry was one of those people who had excellent vision and hearing: the eyes of a hawk and ears of a bat.

"So nice of you to finally join us Miss Daae." Madame Giry's voice came from behind Christine. Christine swallowed hard and turned round slowly to face her. "In future try not to be late as you in particular have a lot to get done."

"Yes Madame." Christine replied. She took her script and began to read through it.

-

The cat walked up to the occupied seat in box 5 and jumped onto Erik's lap. She settled nicely and began to purr softly as he ran a hand over her silky black fur.

His bright blue eyes left the cat and were now focusing on the stage where the performers were busy practising. He removed a notebook and quill from one of the pockets in his cape and started to take notes.

_Orchestra are entrancing for their first attempt, they are clearly putting a lot of effort into this. _His eyes now swept over the dancers and were appalled by what he saw: _No, no, that definitely will not work, they have neither got the feel nor the rhythm. If they don't improve, I shall have to inform my managers that I'm not satisfied with them._

His eyes then fell on Christine; he replaced his notebook and quill without taking his eyes off her and sighed. _She truly is an Angel; I could sit here and watch her all day_. He felt his face begin to burn slightly and tears beginning to form in his eyes.

The cat had sensed this for she had put her front paws on his chest and put her head up to his face.

He broke into a smile. "I'm being ridiculous." He whispered and began to tickle her chin.

She responded with a silent mew, and curled into a ball in his lap, her head upright watching Christine as well as Erik.

He continued to watch her lovingly; his eyes sparkled as she read out the lines of her script.

-

Christine was still reading out the lines she had from act 1. She was just about to attempt to memorise the first few and try to act along with them, when Madame Giry ordered everyone to take a short break.

It was only then that she realised that Piangi and Carlotta were both absent.

She walked over to Meg, who was reading her lines out loud.

"Meg, where are Carlotta and Piangi?" she asked her friend.

"Oh I forgot to tell you. Carlotta stormed out this morning, and of course Piangi has gone too. If she doesn't perform then neither does he. They come as a package." She replied, still partly engrossed in her script.

"Well it makes a change for us, not having to hear her." She said to herself.

"So, have you given her a name yet?" Meg asked.

"Huh? What?" Christine said stupidly trying to gather whom she was talking about.

"The cat."

"Oh right the cat. I don't know. I think she is a stray, but I'll look after her until I can find her a real home." She glanced over to where Madame Giry was standing.

"But back to Piangi and the toad, who will replace Piangi?" She continued.

"Oh I don't know." Meg replied, "No one else fits the part, but can we talk about the Phantom, as I have some questions I wish to ask."

Christine's heart began to race. How could Meg have possibly found out this soon?

"That rose that was in your hair, I noticed there was a black ribbon on your bedside draw when I came earlier and was sitting on your bed." She continued. "Was that ribbon tied to the rose?"

"Why?" Christine asked, slightly relieved and at the same time trying to sound as if she didn't know what Meg was getting at.

"Because the Phantom gives roses to people he admires and they are always marked by a black ribbon." Meg said, examining her friends face.

"Meg for goodness sake!" Christine exclaimed. "You don't know that!"

"It was from him, wasn't it?" Meg pressed.

_What on Earth do I say to her? She seems hell bent on finding out the truth._ Christine thought irritably.

"Look Meg, I really don't wish to talk about this. You're clutching at straws. Can we please get off this subject now?"

A look of frustration came over Christine's face. Meg was being too persistent for her own good.

"Your break is over now. Please resume your places ready to begin." Madame Giry called out to the actors on the stage.

Everyone headed wearily to their places, whilst Christine continued to rehearse her lines, as she couldn't do much else as Piangi was unaccounted for, so she decided to practice her voicing.

Madame Giry stood observing her dancers with a look of uncertainty on her face. However she dismissed these thoughts, as this was the first practice. Her eyes fell on Christine who sat tightly in the corner, eyes almost glued to the script reading aloud what was written on the page. She smiled at her, she had defiantly come a long way in so short of time.

She turned away and headed toward a passageway at the side of the stage. She walked swiftly down a little way then turned the corner. A deep powerful voice caused her to freeze.

"Madame Giry." It called out after her.

Without turning she replied simply. "Erik?"

"Those two fools have finally taken my warnings as well as Carlotta."

"There was no need to go that far with the Managers." She said harshly, now turning to the shadowed part of the hallway.

"I did what I had to. At least I secured Christine the role and got that vile woman to shut up." He replied bitterly.

_How did she know? Firmin didn't tell her and neither did the other._ He pondered.

During the reading out of the cast for Il Muto, Madame Giry had noticed the angry red mark around Firmin's neck, so had guessed what he had done.

The long pause between the two ceased when the cat decided to make its presence known, with a faint mew.

Madame Giry became tense. "Why do you allow that cat to roam around Erik?" she asked, a mixture of fear and annoyance in her voice.

"This is Porsche's home. She has as much right to roam around as anyone else who stays here."

Erik stepped out of the shadowed corner revealing himself to her. Porsche was perched on his shoulder. Her yellow eyes bored into Madame Giry's. Madame Giry became aware of this and so focused upon the half hidden Erik.

"Very well, you're still giving her these singing lessons aren't you?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Yes I am." He replied coolly.

"Do you plan to reveal yourself to her?" she asked him suddenly.

Erik's bright blue eyes flashed. He wasn't sure about how to answer this one.

_She would hate me if she saw me; it's too soon anyway._

"I don't think that would be a wise decision." He replied coldly. He knew that was the answer Madame Giry wanted.

"Then what are you going to do?" She asked quickly.

"Continue to tutor her. That is all I am certain of for now, Antoinette and it won't do you any good to question me further." He told her in a low voice

"Your tutoring has certainly done a lot for her." She replied on a more positive note.

"Thank you, but it is her who does the singing." He said proudly. His voice became more serious when he spoke his next sentence.

"Your young daughter should learn not to be so inquisitive about me, asking Christine continuous questions. I kindly ask you to address this matter, and obviously Monsieur Bouquet doesn't know when to quit telling tales. But he is not my concern. My concern is only for Miss Daae."

Madame Giry looked very worried at this, but he knew what was going through her mind.

"I will not harm your daughter in any way. Just assure me that you will have a word with her." He said softly.

Madame Giry nodded silently and changed the subject.

"How did that cat get into her room last night? She usually locks her door." She glanced at the cat who hissed back.

Madame Giry jumped. Erik knew of her superstition of cats.

Erik smiled at her fear and put a hand up to rub Porsche's chin.

"She is a clever cat." He said in amusement. "It wouldn't surprise me as to how she got in."

Porsche had tilted her head to meet his. She was obviously very attentive towards him, and appreciated the compliment that she had been given.

Madame Giry sighed deeply. "I must be getting back to my dancers. I have been gone long enough."

These words made Erik remember the reason he had wanted to speak with her in the first place.

"Another thing." He whispered. "Your dancers need much work, they are not as in tune as they were with Hannibal, this is nothing against your abilities as a ballet instructor, but I would focus on them a little more than others."

Madame Giry's face became very stern. "They will improve, you have my guarantee, but don't be so hard on them. This is their first time looking at this and so give them time."

With that she spun on her heels and marched back out towards the stage. Erik and Porsche's eyes followed her, before he stepped back allowing the shadows to consume them leaving the hallway empty.

-

Later on after, the rehearsals, Christine entered her room to find the cat had made itself comfortable on the middle of her bed. She turned round and locked the door.

She yawned sleepily, and stretched up towards the ceiling. The rehearsals had gone rather well on her part. Most of it was just reading the script aloud. She hadn't lost focus for most of the day after the break and the conversation she had with Meg. However she had noticed that Madame Giry had disappeared for about 10 minutes or so. Now that she thought about it, where did she go?

Christine shook her head. _It's none of your business what your ballet teacher does when you don't see her. It's not a trait of yours to pry into other people's business. I think Meg should learn to keep out of other peoples business too._

"So you're still here then?" She said to the cat. "Well I think I will keep you, as nobody has claimed you."

Christine went to lie down on her bed; the cat got off and walked towards the mirror.

"Ebony? No, Midnight? No, Sooty?" she said dreamily, with her eyes shut.

She suddenly sat upright and looked towards the cat. "I will call you..." She trailed off excitedly.

Christine heard a click, and the smile slowly began to turn into a gasp.

The large mirror that stood before her was slowly moving into the ground, revealing an empty black space behind it. – A secret passage.


	8. What Lies Beneath

Chapter 8: What Lies Beneath.

Christine got to her feet very slowly, eyes fixed on the space which once was her mirror. Still moving very slowly, she walked towards the tunnel that was now revealed. All of a sudden she stepped on something very fluffy and a loud MEOW sound followed. Looking down, she saw the black cat sitting at the foot of the mirror frame, her lamp-like yellow eyes staring fixedly at Christine.

"Did you…" She could not think how this cat, could do such a thing. Kneeling down, she lifted the cat aside to look at the spot where she had been sitting. It looked the same as it ever did.

She stood back up, one question set firmly in her mind.

_Shall I go down there…?_

Now that she thought about it, going down a mysterious passageway that seemed to have been revealed by a cat did not seem a very clever idea, but then again what could possibly be so dangerous about it?

"Hey come back!" The cat had started to walk down the tunnel. Not pausing to think Christine chased after it, though it was so dark it was impossible to see her due to her black fur.

She had taken about five paces in, when, quite suddenly, she heard a clicking noise behind her. She turned around. Nothing seemed to have changed. Christine was shaking now, afraid to go on down, but she needed to find her cat.

"If only I had some source of…" Light erupted all around her. On either sides of the wall were what appeared to be arms holding up torches. The cat now stood out clearly about a metre in front of her.

Completely losing her nerve, Christine scooped the cat into her arms, turned round and ran back to her room. Her face then collided with something she could not see and she felt her nose start to bleed.

"What the?" Her eyes were watering with the pain. Opening them, she found herself standing very close to the threshold back to her room. She had not noticed the cat jump out of her arms because the collision had shaken her.

She put a hand out in front of her, and sure enough, she could not put it past the mirror frame. What appeared to be a pane of glass had fixed itself in place of the mirror. Now she had no choice. She had to follow the tunnel.

The cat had been sitting at Christine's feet waiting for her to realise this. "Okay kitty, lead on." The cat turned round and continued her walk down the tunnel. Even though the tunnel was full of light, it was still as creepy as it had been when it was dark, and possibly even more so with all these 'arms' holding the torches up.

The cat started walking down the corridor. The arms bent in with the torches to allow more room for Christine to get through as she walked after it. It seemed to take no time at all to get down the long corridor, which didn't heighten her spirits as she was in no particular hurry to get to wherever it was the cat was leading her.

They reached the end of the corridor and Christine found herself standing at the top of a very long set of steps, which seemed to spiral down around a great black hole in the middle.

The cat had already begun to descend the stairs. Christine hurried on after her. Although she did not like the idea of what could be waiting for her at the end of this labyrinth, she did not much fancy the idea of getting lost in it.

They reached a landing in the staircase and the cat stopped abruptly, Christine continued to walk on.

MEEEEEEEOOOOOW

She stopped just in time as her right foot had pressed down and slightly opened a trap door, which had collected so much dust it was impossible to see. Shaking slightly, she backed away. It seemed you could go round the edge. Just after Christine thought this the cat leapt over onto the next set of stairs. Christine however, edged round the side. She could just about see the outline of the trapdoor.

_If there are any other things like that I'm heading back to my room._

There were, however, no more traps on the staircase, as Christine realised when they at last reached the bottom. Now they were standing at the edge of a vast, deep lake.

"Oh, no… no way, I HATE WATER!" She had turned around to leave.

"Then why not use the boat?" She jumped. Where was this voice coming from? She looked around, but the only thing she could see was the cat, who was sitting at the edge of the lake next to a small boat which was big enough to carry two people.

Christine gulped. "Who's there?" Her voice was feeble and there was no answer. "WHO'S THERE?" There was no answer. Not pausing to think, she got into the boat, and started to row across the lake.

She had been rowing for about ten minutes when she realised that she had no idea where she was going. This time there was no way for the cat to signal where to go. She doubted that the cat even knew where to go.

She came to a dead end. Christine abandoned all hope, stopped rowing, and sat down next to the cat, which was curled up in a ball sleeping.

_Maybe someone will come and look for me… But who knows about that passage except for me and this... _ She yawned. _Cat…?_

She sub-consciously stroked the cat, starting to feel very tired. Her nose was still aching, but no longer bleeding. Then she noticed a soft 'click click' sound, coming from straight ahead. The solid piece of wall had vanished. The cat sprung awake. Getting to her feet, Christine started to row inside, not knowing what she was going to find…

She had entered what appeared to be some sort of antechamber, or… was it a dock of some kind? She did not much care. She was frozen from the journey from her room to this place and she wasn't about to stop and get any colder. The cat leapt out of the boat onto the stone floor and Christine followed, shivering.

They passed through a stone doorway into what appeared to be… "A music room?" She whispered. There was every sort of instrument you could possibly imagine and in the middle of the room was a grand piano. Sitting on the stool of the piano was a man.

He did not seem to have noticed that Christine had entered the room. However the cat had walked up to the foot of the stool and leapt onto the man's lap. Christine could see a hand reach out and start to stroke it and the cat once again curled up and began to sleep. The man stretched his fingers out towards the keys of the piano and began to play a soft tune.

"… Angel?" The man did not stop playing. Apparently he had noticed her enter. She took a few steps closer to him, noticing a violin case on top of the piano.

"Stop!" He sounded frightened. He stopped playing the piano at once. Christine could not understand why. She was hardly going to attack him. She soon found out why however, the man, who she had come to the conclusion was Erik, turned round on his stool.

On the right side of his face was a horrible pure white mask, and she had only heard of one person who wore a white half mask. "THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!" She screamed, then turned round and ran back towards the boat, only to realise that the oar had gone.

"Christine, wait!" She did not know where to go. Her legs felt like rubber. Her vision was starting to blur. She could not give up. She had to run, to get away from this…nightmare. She did not know where to run. She went face first into the wall and her nose began to bleed again. There was a blur of white… and she fainted.

Christine felt something nuzzling her nose, but was too tired to move; whatever it was. Her brain seemed to be working twice as slowly as normal. Maybe because she had hit her head so many times.

"Porsche come here." Called a voice from what seemed like miles away.

_Porsche, so that's what the cat is called._

The nuzzling stopped, and Christine heard footsteps coming towards her. Making sure that her eyes were shut tight. She waited for the footsteps to stop. She felt ice being pressed to her nose, which made it difficult to keep still. As soon as it stopped she squinted into the light. She saw the phantom walking away from her and he left her completely alone.

_Ok time to get out of here._

She got up feeling slightly dizzy after she had fainted, and made her way to the door. Poking her head round the corner she could see some sort of kitchen. Well, she could see a range, a table of some kind, a few plates, and a cupboard which she assumed contained food. The room looked empty.

Taking a few paces into the room, she noticed Porsche sitting in front of another door, her lamp-like yellow eyes boring into Christine's.

Meow. This was what Christine thought would happen. Sure enough, she heard footsteps approaching the doorway. Christine dived under the table. She was thankful that there was a table cloth on it.

"What is it Porsche?" Said Erik. Christine heard another Meow, and the soft sound of paws coming her way, closely followed by footsteps. "Under the table, eh?" Now Christine panicked, and did something which was both very brave, and extremely stupid.

She kicked the Phantom as hard as she could in the shins, and was rewarded by a yelp of pain. Seizing her opportunity, she got out from under the table and ran for the door. She was almost there when she felt a very strong grip take hold of her.

"Let…" She gave an almighty tug, but couldn't get free. "Me…" She tugged again, still with no success. "Go…" She tugged again, just managing to slip through his fingers.

Bolting into the next room, she slammed the wooden door behind her. There was a key in it, which she turned, locking the door. She was standing in what was unmistakably an armoury, though there were no guns, just a wide selection of swords. She looked around the room frantically, the door she came through was the only one in or out, but above all, she now had a choice of weapon to use.

A sword to her right caught her eye. It had a long, thin blade, with a skull design as the hilt. She picked it up off its rack. It was light for a sword, but for such a thin piece of metal it was quite heavy. She studied it more closely. It was very well made.

"Like it?" Christine spun around, sword held at the ready. There, at the opposite end of the room, stood Erik, The Phantom of the Opera, the man who had taught her to sing, her angel of music.

"Keep away from me." She said voice shaking, yet holding her sword hand very steady. "Don't think I don't know how to use this… we've had to use swords in productions."

"I know you have. I've seen all of them." He said, quite calmly, taking a sword down from behind him. "That really hurt back there." He sounded as though he was mocking her. Christine was now very white. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you."

_If I can injure his sword hand I may be able to win, or at least escape._

She edged towards the door, and was very surprised to see that Erik was not attempting to stop her. She soon found out why…

"Looking for this?" He held up the key.

"Give it to me…" She knew there was no way she could win, but it was worth trying just so she could get out of this place.

"I'll fight you for it… Not to the death of course." He said, pocketing the key. "First to disarm?"

Christine could not speak, but nodded and then after a few moments managed to say. "So if I win?"

"You get the key."

"And if you win?" She was dreading the answer to this.

"I keep the key." He said, his voice quite plain.

"Yes but then what?"

"You go back to your room and lie down. Your head must be pounding."

Christine weighed her chances. She could win, and get out of here, or could lose, and stay.

"You're on." As soon as she said this, Erik swung violently at her. Christine parried the attack easily however. Her father had taught her about swords and how to use one when he was still alive…

Christine attacked three times, forcing Erik to step backwards a few paces, a smile formed on his face, as did one on Christine's.

"You do know what you're doing don't you?" He sounded half amused, half impressed. He tried an uppercut, which Christine sidestepped. "Much better than the other dancers."

She wasn't about to let him lull her into a false sense of security. She swiped downwards at him, which he parried.

"Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't fight." She was watching his every movement, making sure that he did not back her up into a wall.

He was an extremely good swordsman. It was much different to fight for real than to stage fight. He swiped sideways at her. She ducked, the blade missing her by inches.

"You're not a woman yet child." He said mockingly. Christine lunged at him.

There was a flash of light and a puff of smoke. Erik had vanished. Christine looked around to see where he was. Then she heard movement behind her. Knowing where he was she dived out of the way, up against the west wall. She took another sword down from the wall.

"One not enough?" He panted. He seemed to be getting tired.

"I thought this makes it fair…" She swung one sword after the other at him, which nearly disarmed him. "You have your tricks, I have two swords." He uppercut her again, which she sidestepped.

"I don't need tricks to beat you, but that doesn't mean I can't use them." There was another flash of light, this time he had gone completely. "Up here!" He dropped from the ceiling, knocking a sword from her hand. "Just give up."

"I…" She swung once. "Don't…" She swung twice. "Think…" she swung a third time.

"So?" He said, a note of sarcasm in his voice.

"Precisely." With that she uppercut him, knocking his sword clean out of his hand.

_HA, how about that? I won!_

Victorious, she walked over to Erik, sword pointing at his face. She was very tired, but she did not need to speak for him to hand over the key.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" He asked, curiously.

Christine unlocked the door, pondering her answer. "My father taught me when I was young."

"He must have been a great teacher." Christine slammed the door behind her but, almost immediately, she came face to face with him again. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"I beat you, so I get to leave." She said, tying to push past him, but he was too strong, and she was too weak after the fight. "That was never part of the agreement." He said.

_Yes it was now… oh damn!_

"You will go back to your room, lie down, and when you are ready, we will begin your lesson. You haven't had one for a while and the production of Il Muto is fast approaching." With this, he lifted Christine up over his shoulder, ignoring all of the kicking and screaming.

_Just like a child, poor thing._

When they reached the guest room, he put her down. He had to keep holding her back as she tried to escape, but eventually she gave up. "You can wait here and calm down, then have your lesson."

With that, he closed the door, and Christine heard the click of the door locking.

Meow.

She turned round. Porsche was sitting on the bed, again curled up into a ball, half asleep. "You have got me into a lot of trouble…Porsche."

She lay down next to her, exhausted and then fell asleep almost instantly.


	9. The Phantom of the Opera

**Chapter 9- The Phantom Of The Opera**

Christine woke up a few hours later. It took her a while to remember where she was, or the events that had happened the previous day.

_I'm in the Phantoms lair. I'm here because of that cat. What was it called?...Porsche! Yes that's right, and… and…_ It took her a while to remember why she was so exhausted. _I had a swordfight with him! And won!_

This last thought made her spirits lift slightly. She studied the room she was in. The last time she was in here she had not taken time to look around it properly.

She was lying on a bed which seemed to be in the shape of a silver Swan. In one corner was a mirror, much like the one that was in her room. In another corner was a dressing table, though this one was slightly bigger than the one that was in her room.

She got up, noticing the carpet she was standing on. From what she remembered, hardly any of this place had carpets, just solid stone floors. She walked over to the door, turned the handle, then remembered that it was locked.

"Hey! Let me out." She waited a while for the door to open, yet much to her annoyance it did not, then she heard a voice sound from the other side of the door.

"Try again, and be a bit more polite." How could this man be so annoying? Though she was at his mercy and so she thought that she better play along.

"Can you please let me out of here Erik?" With that, she heard the turn of the key and the click of the locking mechanism. Not wanting to hang about, she opened the door very quickly, slamming straight into Erik. He seemed to be expecting this however, as he put his hand up to stop himself from getting hit in the face.

"In a rush are you?" He said sarcastically. Christine noticed his pale blue eyes looking straight into hers. Now that she took a closer look, if it were not for the hideous mask that he wore on the right side of his face, he would have been quite handsome. "You must be hungry." He said, leading her into the kitchen and sitting her down at the table where only hours ago, she had hidden. "Here you are." He placed a plate of food in front of her, which she looked at curiously.

"Why are you doing this?" She did not like the idea of eating food that was offered to her by 'The Phantom'. She could just hear what Meg's voice would be like if she ever found out.

'YOU DID WHAT? Christine that was really stupid. How do we know that it wasn't poisoned, and not one of those quick poisons, I mean a slow acting poison?'

As if Erik had read her mind, he quickly said to her. "That food's not poisoned you know…"

"And how can I trust you?" She snapped at him. He looked rather taken aback as he thought up the best way to answer this.

"If I wanted to kill you or injure you, don't you think I would have done it by now?" He said this as though he was rather hurt by her words.

"Well…"

"Why would I go through all of the trouble to teach you to sing if I was just going to kill you afterwards?"

"I suppose… but."

"There are no buts." He said sharply. "I teach you how to effectively use your voice, and how do you repay me?" He said, now looking deeply upset. "You attack me as though I am a monster."

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…"

"Well if you didn't mean to hurt me then what were you intending to achieve by attacking me?"

Christine did not answer this. For once she was lost for words completely and she felt… guilty. So, to try and make up for this, she started to eat the food that she had been given. It tasted superb. Better than she had back up at the Opera House.

"This is really…" She swallowed, noticing she was talking with half a mouthful. "Tasty!"

Erik smiled at this, not one of his menacing smiles or one of his intimidating smiles like he used during the swordfight, more like… a proud smile.

"Thank you, I'm glad you like it." He went over to the counter and took another plate of food for himself. "I need lots of energy after fighting with you." He said with a cheeky grin.

_How are you managing to have a civil conversation with this man? It's almost as though he's polite and caring._

"So… your father taught you to fight?" He said, almost nervously, though Christine could not figure out why he would be nervous.

"When I was very young, he thought it best that I knew a bit of self defence, I suppose that he was right." Erik gave another one of his cheeky grins.

"Beaten by a woman, but then again, I did go easy on you." Christine looked up at him and then registered what he had said.

"So I'm not a child anymore then?" She said with a devilish grin to rival his. "That's what you said isn't it… 'You're not a woman yet **child**'" She put particular emphasis on the last word.

"I…" He started, then realised that Christine was laughing.

_Well how about that, I made her laugh._

"You better be careful or I might demand a rematch." He said, a note of menace in his voice, but Christine continued to laugh.

"You want me to beat you again?" She said, teasingly. "I didn't think that Phantoms were in to being humiliated by **children**." This triggered something in her mind.

"I'm really sorry for not telling you that I'm, well, 'The Phantom of the Opera', as you all call me. It's just that I didn't know how you would react, and after what happened a few hours ago…" He trailed off to let her take in what he had said. "Well, let's just say I hope you can see my reason."

Christine had just finished her food. Erik handed her a napkin, and indicated that she had something on her upper lip.

"I'm sorry that I attacked you, I just…" She could not think of any word to describe how she felt at the time.

"Panicked?" He said in a monotone.

"Amongst other things." She said with a nervous chuckle. She handed him her plate, which he put down on the floor. Porsche the cat strode over to it and started licking it.

"Don't worry. She does get a proper meal." He said, reading the look on Christine's face correctly. "She just enjoys the leftovers. To be honest I'm surprised she did not leap onto the table and start eating your food. She must like you." He put his plate down on the floor next to Porsche, who started licking it immediately.

"That is one clever cat." Said Christine, remembering how she had managed to open up the passageway down to this place, and how she managed to get into rooms that seemed to be locked.

"She managed to find her way down here when she was only a kitten. Not the way that you came down here of course, she wouldn't have been able to make it across the lake." He stopped, watching Christine stare at Porsche. "She was the first living thing that did not run in fear of me, and we have kept each other company ever since."

Christine felt a surge of guilt at these words. Looking back at Erik, she asked the question that she had been dying to ask ever since she saw his face.

"Why do you wear that mask?" He did not move, or speak. He seemed stumped by the question, and Christine could tell that he was hunting for another topic.

"She can do all sorts of things you know, very faithful, my eyes and ears of the Opera House." She could tell that there was no reason to pursue the subject, though she had a fairly good idea why.

_It would not be a good idea to annoy him now. Just drop it!_

"Where did you first learn to sing, Christine?" He seemed interested by this.

"An old chorus girl taught me, she's left now, but she had a beautiful singing voice, so I asked her to teach me…" She looked over at Erik, who was intrigued by this. "And she did." She finished, rather lamely.

"She only taught you how to control the pitch of your voice. Am I right?" Christine nodded. "Did she not have time to teach you breathing techniques?"

"I guess not, she left soon after we started lessons, then I taught myself with what I had learned." She looked back over at Porsche, who went over to Christine's feet, sat down, then sprang up onto her lap.

"You have a beautiful singing voice, much better than that toad Carlotta." Christine laughed when Erik had called Carlotta a toad.

_Wow, I made her laugh again._

"So you want a rematch?" Christine asked. "I'll make sure that you get one at some point, if you want to lose that badly."

"By that time I will have a few more tricks up my sleeve, with which to beat you." He gave yet another one of his cheeky grins.

"How did you do that…thing, when we were fighting?" She asked. She hadn't given it much of a thought since the fight.

"A magician never reveals his secrets." He said slyly. Readjusting his mask as he spoke.

There was a long silence. Christine started stroking Porsche. Erik however was lost deep in thought, knowing that one thing must happen sooner or later.

_I've got to take her back soon. She can't stay here or they might give Madame toad the part of the countess._

"You still look tired." He said, plainly. "Why not go and rest for an hour or so, then I'll take you back to your room. You can have your lesson tomorrow".

Christine did not object to this, so she followed Erik back to the guest room, Porsche held in her arms, meowing every so often. Christine stepped inside, and Erik closed the door behind her. She was relieved to hear that he did not lock it this time. She walked over to the bed, though she had no intention of sleeping, too many things were on her mind to leave room for sleep.

"Hmmmm, maybe C# minor would work…" She heard Erik thinking aloud on the opposite side of the wall, then she heard a very violent tune being played on the piano, in what she assumed was C# minor, it ceased after about 10 seconds. "No no no, definitely not, maybe D minor…" The same tune struck up again, only slightly higher than the previous time. "Still too low…" He played it again, higher still. "F minor!"

From what Christine could tell, he was composing something on the piano, and he had just made some progress. It was unlike any music Christine had ever heard. It was full of both anger and love. She pressed her ear against the wall so that she could hear what was being played more clearly.

"Lyrics…lyrics." There was a long silence, and the scratching of a quill on parchment. It seemed like slow progress. He would write something, and then by the sounds of it, cross it out almost immediately afterwards. The occasional comment like, "That makes it sound like he's going to hang her." Or. "Now it sounds like they are playing the bassoon…" Christine laughed. She did not know that he was so precise about things.

Christine lay down on her bed, listening to his comments and occasional curses, she felt drowsy, and, hearing one last. "God! Now it sounds as though they are fighting." She fell asleep.

Firmin was still talking with Madame Giry. "Still no sign of her?" He asked, quite hysterical, they were in the middle of a rehearsal for Il Muto. Carlotta had decided to turn up, dressed in her page boy costume.

"No Monsieur, we have checked everywhere, but still no sign." She said, trying to keep her voice calm.

_If you ask me I think it is the luck that she brought on herself when she found that cat!_

"Maybe you should consider re-casting?" Chirped in Carlotta. Clearly loving the panic that had struck the managers. "I know the songs very well, and can sing them much better than little Miss Daae."

André burst out laughing, which he just about managed to disguise as a hacking cough before Carlotta noticed him. "Well, if she does not return then we will use you…" He turned to Firmin and muttered. " As a **last** resort."

"What was that? Last resort?" She cried.

Firmin muttered to André. "Ears like a bloody bat!"

With that comment, Carlotta walked over to the two of them, fan at the ready, and started hitting André sharply over the head with it.

"That's for saying I'm the last resort." She hit him once with every word she spoke.

"Ok ok, since Miss Daae is not here at the moment, La Carlotta can take over." Said Reyer.

Carlotta, who had been busy hitting Firmin saying. "That's for calling me a bat!" Stopped at once, looking over at Reyer with a big smile. "Oh that's good, good good good."

Madame Giry seemed prepared for this scenario. She pulled a couple of cotton buds out of her pocket and stuffed them tightly in her ears.

"You don't have any more of them do you." Muttered Firmin. Madame Giry had to lip-read him, she shook her head. "Oh damn!"

"…Re-turn" The sound of a quill on parchment stopped, and Christine awoke. "That's the best I'm going to get it for now.

She got up, noticing that Porsche was scratching at the door trying to get out. Christine walked over to the door and opened it for her. Porsche went into the kitchen and started to drink the bowl of milk on the floor. Christine went to the music room. It took her a little while to find it, as the lair was quite big. She heard Erik's voice coming from a room to her left however.

"Decided…" There was a big piano solo after this, it sounded like it should have had words to it, but it sounded pretty good on its own none the less.

Erik paused for a moment. Something seemed to be irritating him. He put his hands up to his face and lifted off his mask. Apparently he had to scratch the right side of his face. When he resumed playing however, he decided to leave it off, deciding it would be more comfortable.

"Hmmmm, strings for this bit I think. Piano would sound to plain on its own… but what instrument?" He got up and strode over to the other side of the room, Christine took the opportunity to go and have a look at the music he was writing.

_Don Juan…?_

"Violin or viola…or Cello… or all three?" He said to himself.

_Point of…_

There was a click of an instruments case being shut, the clatter of it being put back into place, and Erik turned round to face Christine, no mask on his face…


	10. Miss Daae's Return

**Chapter 10: Miss Daae's Return**

Erik realised that the right of his face was uncovered; he turned away from her sharply, placing his mask back on the deformed portion of his face, hoping Christine hadn't seen.

He had heard her gasp, making him realise the one thing he would of hoped to conceal for as long as possible had been revealed only hours after he had been seen by Christine in person. He never intended it to happen like this.

"Th… That's why you wear that mask." Christine whispered timidly, stepping towards him.

Erik said nothing; he simply put his hand out indicating for her not to come any closer.

"Yes, that is why I wear this mask, to hide this loathsome, repulsive gargoyle of a face." Erik replied forcefully; his head buried in his hands.

_Why hasn't she run yet? She has seen the monster behind the mask!_

"I'm sorry." She whispered. Tears had formed in her eyes. She felt guilty that she had first inquired about it.

"Why should you be sorry? It is I that should be sorry, for letting you see this." He breathed heavily.

"Erik... I…" She began.

"Come, we should return." He said cutting her off. "Everyone will be looking for you."

He got up and walked past her, gesturing for her to follow him. Without another word she followed in his wake, out of the door and towards the glassy lake, upon which the boat she had arrived in still waited.

Erik helped her into the boat and she sat down. She felt the patter of four little paws climb past her and a ball of fur settle on her lap. She began to stroke Porsche, looking at her affectionately as the boat set off on its journey, Erik stood behind her rowing it gently.

His face so distorted and deformed his eyes full of pain and sadness. He has been so kind to me, yet he is so angry that I've seen it.

The boat continued to glide smoothly across the deep green lake. Erik still said nothing to Christine. He wasn't sure what to do now that she had seen the very thing which was his burden, his secret; the disfigured face that separated him from the world above.

_Curse my foolishness! What a damn fool! How could I of been so careless!_

Erik looked down at Christine who was stroking Porsche and had kept her head down since they first left his domain. He looked at her fondly, examining the way her rich brown curls spread out over her back.

_But yet she did not run, why? She apologised for something that wasn't her fault, it was mine! I wouldn't be surprised if she never wanted to see me again after this, after all the lies I fed her and forcing her to stay, but then we seemed to be getting on well. Oh why why why did I let this happen!_

Erik felt fire rise within him. He was angry at his own stupidity and how he had ruined everything.

The little boat drifted slowly to the shore of their destination. Erik got out first and stepped onto the wet stone platform. He turned around to see Christine smiling at him. He smiled back at her, pain searing through him.

Porsche was still sitting on Christine's lap. "Porsche, come." He commanded.

The cat obeyed, springing off her lap and onto the platform where she stood by Erik's feet, purring.

He reached out his hand to help Christine out of the boat. Christine placed her hand in his gently and slowly stepped out to where he stood.

"Thank you." She whispered.

He didn't reply but simply gave a warming smile to show that he acknowledged her thanks and appreciated it.

Erik held onto Christine as he led her back through one of the tunnels, Porsche plodding behind them.

As before, the arms holding the torches illuminated the pathway. However Christine didn't recognise this passage as the one she had travelled down.

"Where are we heading Erik?" She asked plainly.

"Where I said I'd take you, see?"

They had approached the two-way mirror, on the other side of the glass was her room. They stopped by it. Christine heard a click and the mirror, as it had done before, slid into the ground allowing her to pass by the barrier.

"Thank you, Erik." She said. But Erik was no longer there, he'd gone and so had Porsche.

The mirror then slid back into position. Just as it clicked the door flew open and Meg Giry came running through, throwing her arms around a slightly depressed Christine.

"Where have you been!? Everyone has been looking for you. We searched everywhere, and you've been in here all this time."

"Meg, please just..."

"The managers were worried. They have even considered giving Carlotta the main role of countess, and she's here now!" Twittered a frantic Meg, cutting her off.

_What! I'm here now so she can go back into that pond from where she came! _

"Come Christine we have no time. We must inform the managers that you're back."

Christine shook her head. "You can go. I'd rather be on my own for a few minutes please Meg."

"Fine, but I will come back when I have let them know, alright?"

"Yes, alright."

Meg threw her arms round Christine and embraced her again. "Please don't disappear like that again. I thought something bad had happened to you."

"I'm sorry." Christine muttered feebly.

"Well at least you're back and you're safe." With that Meg headed out of the door, her running footsteps became fainter until Christine was sure that she was a fair distance away. She locked the door.

She faced the mirror. "Erik?" she called. She expected his voice to answer hers, but no sound came.

"Angel?" She tried again but got no answer.

Christine looked down at the floor and headed over to her bed, memories of previous events coming back to her. She began to weep softly as she sat down on the soft covers of her bed.

Erik watched her, wanting to say something to comfort her, but didn't know how. He felt a tight knot in his throat; realizing tears were attempting to well in his bright blue eyes he blinked and putting a lid on his emotions, he turned to more important matters. He turned round and walked briskly down the passageway with Porsche still following.

Firmin was busy writing at his desk whilst André was having a hearty conversation with Carlotta. They were discussing Il Muto, André showering her with praises.

"You will be stupendous. Everyone will love you Signora!" He yelled.

Carlotta clearly loved the attention she was getting. "Yes, Yes." She replied with a stupid grin.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in." Firmin called.

Madame Giry and Meg entered. "Miss Daae has returned. Meg found her in her room." She told them.

Carlotta had obviously heard them, and had hurried over to make sure she had heard right.

"D… Did you say that Christine Daae has returned." She asked Madame Giry shakily.

"Yes I did." She stated.

"Well I shall go and check that she's alright." Firmin said.

"No monsieur. Let her be. She needs rest." Madame Giry told him.

Carlotta now looked over to the managers. Attempting to put on a charming smile, which failed to convince Firmin.

"Well now that Miss Daae's back we will have to stick to the original casting." He murmured.

"WHAT!?" Carlotta screamed.

"No signora, we will have you. Miss Daae will play the silent role." André said reassuringly.

He did not wish to be struck repeatedly in the face with her fan, which he had noticed in her hand when she came into the office about 15 minutes ago and so thought it best to keep on her good side.

"No, that's not fair. Christine deserves the part." Meg shouted back. Carlotta shot her a nasty look.

"But if we need Carlotta so that Piangi will play his part." André shouted frantically.

There was no one else to replace Piangi and so they would be in a spot of trouble if they failed to win him over. The only way he would take the role back is if his precious, darling Carlotta gets the limelight.

"That little girl will play the silent role!" Carlotta spat.

"But should Carlotta be given Miss Daae's role, accidents will happen." Madame Giry snapped.

"Miss Daae only got the main part in Hannibal because poor Carlotta was nearly killed!" André argued back. Gesturing over to Carlotta, who began to whine.

Firmin had had enough. "André!" He exploded. "Do you want a lasso around your neck too!?"

He unbuttoned his collar to reveal a red mark round his neck indicating where Erik's magical lasso had once attempted to strangle the life out of him.

"Someone may not be as lucky." He said warningly.

The whole room gasped. André looked very frightened.

"You mean the Phantom of the Opera did that to you?" Meg asked shocked.

"You stupid managers!" Carlotta wailed over the top of the gasps. "Don't you see that this is **your** theatre…?"

Erik, who was watching them from the same place he had watched the managers before, was getting irritated by Carlotta's attempts to win over André. However he was pleased that Firmin had learnt his lesson: Never disobey the Phantom of the Opera!

_They don't need telling twice that it is not their theatre and as for the toad, if she does not cease to pursue this, then I may have to tell her in person. _He thought slyly.

"Show him who's in charge." She croaked on. "Don't let him ruin you. Don't bow down to him."

_Why would I ruin them? As far as the audiences know, I don't exist; they will believe it's all the mangers doing. But their place is in the office and there they shall stay._

"Miss Daae will be playing the Countess…" Said Firmin in a barely audible whisper. "…and that is that."

Carlotta did not pursue the subject any further, but instead turned round and walked out of the door, fan still clutched in her hand.

-

There was a knock on Christine's door. "Yes, come in."

Meg opened the door and whipped in quickly shutting the door behind her. She seemed to have a troubled look on her face.

"Meg, what is it?"

"He tried to kill him, Christine. There was a red mark round his neck!" She said quickly.

Christine had hardly gathered anything that Meg had said. "Meg slow down, what are you talking about?"

"O-one of the managers, umm monsieur F- fire?" Meg whispered almost breathlessly.

"Firmin?"

"Yes, there was a huge argument about who should play the role of countess since you had disappeared and he showed us what had happened to him. The Phantom of the Opera had tried to kill him!" Meg whispered looking slightly worried.

Christine's face paled at the last words. 'The Phantom of the Opera had tried to kill him.'

_No, Erik wouldn't do that, he couldn't! _Her face felt red, burning with anger.

"Well that gives you proof that he really does exist. The managers are terrified. Firmin is obeying his orders, which is good news for you because it means you keep the role of countess." She said cheerfully.

_But that is no reason to attempt to take someone's life, for my sake, for my career!_

"I'm sorry Christine. I will have to leave you for now. I told mother I wouldn't be long. You stay here and get plenty of rest. Mother has requested that no one disturbs you and if you need anything please let me know." With that Meg disappeared out of the room.

Christine now glared at the mirror. She could feel fire rising within her and she knew he was there.

"Erik!" She hissed.

No reply.

"Erik, I know you're there." She said a little softer than before.

Still no sound.

Fuming Christine marched over to the mirror and began to pound it with her fists angrily. "Answer me!" She cried.

His voice came from the other side of the mirror, he sounded pained when he spoke. "Yes Christine?"

"Is what Meg told me true? That you attempted to strangle one of the managers?" She asked, a mixture of fear and anger in her question.

"Mademoiselle Giry should learn when to hold her tongue!"

"So it is true! How could you? I trusted you! How do I know that you won't do that to me if I don't obey you?" She choked between newly formed sobs.

"Christine, I would never hurt you. They were going to replace you with that horrible wretched toad and I couldn't let that happen. I merely wanted to help."

"By threatening others! By putting them at death's door!" She shrieked at the mirror.

Erik was in pain because of the upset he had caused her, and it was breaking his heart.

_Oh Christine, I know I am a monster, but I did it for you. Curse Meg Giry! Why did she tell her? Why did Firmin show them? She hates me, but she has to understand I did it for her, I would do anything for her. I **LOVE** her!_

There was an uneasy silence for a few minutes. Christine was sobbing. Erik felt as though he had been stabbed in the chest.

He summoned up the courage to speak to her. "I'm sorry. I – I promise it won't happen again."

Christine didn't reply she was looking at the ground, one hand over her eyes and the other by her side, her fist clenched.

"Do you forgive me?" He dreaded her reply.

Christine looked up. "Do you promise me, that if I give you this chance you will never hurt anyone again?"

"Christine… I…"

"Do you promise me?" She repeated, cutting him off.

"Yes, I promise."

"Then you're forgiven." She smiled at the mirror.

"Would you care to join me? For a singing lesson?" He asked softly.

"Yes I would very much Erik."

With that the mirror slid into the ground, revealing Erik standing on the other side, dressed in black, his hair slicked back, and the white mask, which contrasted with his clothing, covering the deformed part of his face, which she had seen previously.

Christine quickly darted to her door, so that no one could enter and find her gone again. She only intended to stay for a short while this time. She returned to face Erik. She noticed his bright blue eyes looking into her emerald green ones the way they did before.

He smiled and held out his hand, she took it and held on gently as he led her down the tunnel. Remembering something she had been meaning to ask, she stopped. Erik sensed her stop, and turned to face her.

"Are you alright Angel?" He asked with concern.

"If I ever want to come down here on my own, how do you open the mirror?"

"There is a tile on the floor in the very corner near the mirror. Hold it down for a while with a fair amount of pressure and the mirror will open."

"And to get back to my room?"

"There is a switch, which I will show you when we return."

With that he turned, still holding her hand firmly, and continued down the little passageway. They came to the boat after a while, to find that Porsche had been waiting for them. The boat journey didn't seem as long as the last time for they were soon back in his lair, and by the piano. Christine stood beside Erik, who sat on the bench.

"Christine, before we begin, may I ask you something?" Erik whispered softly.

"Yes of course you can." She replied.

"Why didn't you run?"

"Run?" She repeated puzzled. "From what?"

"Seeing my face, you did not run in fear."

Christine smiled and walked round to the side of the bench and knelt down, taking his hand in hers.

"I do not judge you by your appearance, but by your actions. It's not the outside of you that counts. It's what lies in here." She placed one of her hands over his heart and held on to one of his with the other. She looked up into his face smiling.

Erik's every muscle had frozen. The beauty of her smile, the comfort of her voice, the wisdom of her words and her touch caused him to freeze and waves of unknown emotions shot through him. He wanted to hold her but what were these strange feelings flowing through him? He managed to smile back, before pulling her hands off him and placing one on her lap, and the other on top of it. Feeling able to breath again, he turned his attention to the piano.

_She does not judge me by how I look. She is truly an angel. She forgave me and for that I will keep my promise to her. Why did I move her hand? She was being so sweet. After all I've done, maybe she truly doesn't hate me after all._

"Is there a particular song you would like to work on?" He asked.

"Yes I still think I need to work on the song at the beginning of act two." She replied.

"Very well, we shall practice on that one but first we need to warm your voice up. Stand up straight. We will do the regular warm ups that we have done previously as you know them very well. Ready? Here we go." He told her.

As he started to play, she sang softly. He began to sing along with her producing sounds of perfectly harmonized voices that echoed through the music room and the sound carried around the dark domain of The Opera Ghost. Unreachable by anyone, except Porsche, who moved her ears round to the source of the sound and settled back to sleep.


	11. Il Muto

Chapter 11- Il Muto

Christine stirred in her sleep. Erik was sitting on the end of the bed watching her. Sensing that dawn had broken, he stood up and walked silently out of the room, making sure that he closed the door carefully so as not to wake his sleeping beauty.

He headed toward the kitchen where he found Porsche already waiting for him.

"Alright breakfast coming up." He smiled at the cat, who responded with a soft mew.

He decided to get her breakfast done first as it was early, then he would prepare Christine a breakfast fit for a queen as he knew that this evening she would be performing Il Muto.

He placed Porsche's bowl down on the floor near his feet and gave her some of the meats that were left. She tucked in happily, while he placed some milk in a saucer for her to drink and put that next to the food.

He stood up and pondered for a moment; what would he cook her? Something which would release energy slowly? He smiled. He had just the thing. He set to work on finding some ingredients, equipment and of course his very handy recipe book.

-

Christine yawned heavily, and opened her eyes slowly; it took her a while to register completely where she was. She sat up and looked around her and then she knew. She took a sniff of the air as an absolutely gorgeous smell had filled the room. Her mind focused on the scent, trying to work out what it was. When the door opened Erik came in carrying a silver tray with plates of food on it.

"Good Morning. Did you sleep well?" He asked.

"Yes, very." Christine replied smiling. "Erik what is this? It smells like heaven."

His blue eyes looked at her sparkling. "This is cheese omelette, served with fried mushrooms and fried cinnamon-scented French toast. The cinnamon is probably what you could smell, but I hope it is to your liking."

Christine didn't reply. She had tucked into the cheese omelette at once.

She looked back up at him, and swallowed a mouthful before saying: "Erik this is wonderful. Where did you learn to cook such great food?"

He gave her a cheeky grin before replying: "Where did you learn to sing so superbly, even after Cecilia left?"

She stopped and looked at him. Her eyes were wide. "How do you know her name? I never told you. You knew her didn't you?"

"Yes I knew her. I used to listen to her practice, and of course she never knew I was listening. I never used to reveal myself then. It's only been recently that I took up the name of the Phantom of the Opera and began to make my presence known to you all."

"Why did you choose to reveal yourself to me like this? What makes me different?" she asked curiously.

_I wish I could tell you the truth but I will leave that until I feel you are ready to hear it_.

"Because I trust you. You're the only one I feel would understand me and judging by what you said to me last night, my guess was correct."

Christine blushed as she remembered what she had told him last night. "Thank you, that's very kind of you to say so."

Erik smiled back. "Please eat." He indicated to the half-eaten breakfast on her plate. "You will need your energy for your last minute preparations before tonight."

"Oh goodness I almost completely forgot. I had better get back" She cried, trying to rise.

Erik reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder pushing her back down gently. "Don't worry. The morning is still young and I thought you liked my food."

Christine blushed slightly before finishing the remains of the cinnamon toast. "Yes of course I do, but I will go back as soon as I'm dressed and have finished. Alright?"

"Very well my dear." He replied softly.

For the first time Christine had noticed that she was in a nightdress, and she could neither remember changing during the previous evening, nor falling asleep on the bed.

He must have changed me last night. 

"Erik, did I fall asleep by the piano last night? I was still in my dress. How did I end up in this nightdress?" She asked sheepishly, even though she guessed what his reply would be.

It was Erik's turn to have some colour in his cheeks. "Yes, you did fall asleep, and it seemed unfair to wake you and so I carried you to the bed so that you would be more comfortable, but no I didn't change you."

Christine looked puzzled. "If you didn't change me then who did?"

"Madame Giry, I felt it would be inappropriate to do it myself. She came down to my lair and got you changed."

"So Madame Giry knows you? How?"

"That doesn't matter for the moment. I will explain later. You had best get changed and I will return you to your room."

Christine decided not to ask any further questions. He had said that he would tell her later on so she would wait. She went to her room and began to change.

-

The mirror once again had slid into the ground as Erik pulled the switch, allowing Christine to see how she could get past the barrier from his lair to her room. She already knew the switch from her room to the passageway.

Before she crossed the threshold, she turned to face Erik. "Thank you for the breakfast and for letting me stay."

"My pleasure, I wish you luck in your performance tonight."

"Will you be watching?"

"I'll see you, but you won't see me." He replied monotonically.

"I'll take that as a yes then shall I?" She giggled. Before stepping into her room, she didn't bother to turn around as she knew he would have done his vanishing act.

Christine sighed and began to pace her room.

_How does Madame Giry know of Erik. Why didn't she tell me? How long has she known him? Should I go ask her? But Erik did say that he would explain later. I can't wait for later. I'm going to ask her._

Christine headed out of the room and rushed down the corridor toward Madame Giry's office. It was still fairly early, so she wasn't sure whether she would be up. She reached the door, took a deep breath, paused and then knocked on the door.

"Come in." Answered an icy voice which belonged to the ballet instructor.

Christine carefully opened the door and timidly walked in.

"Ah, Christine my dear, you're up rather early. Is there something you wished to see me about?"

Christine swallowed hard before whispering. "Erik."

Madame Giry sat back in her seat. She looked at Christine for a moment, and then indicated a seat for her to sit down in. Christine crossed the room and placed herself in the red, velvet looking chair opposite her.

Madame Giry leant forward slightly, before asking. "What of him?"

"How long have you known Erik?"

"Long enough."

"You've known all along about him being the Phantom of the Opera?"

"Yes indeed I have."

"How did you meet him?"

Madame Giry paused for a moment. "You ask too many questions."

"Madame Giry, please."

A third voice entered the room, making Christine jump.

"My dear have you ever heard of the expression 'ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies'? I said I would explain later. I know you're curious, but I would rather tell you myself. That is if Madame Giry has no objections."

"None at all." She replied.

"Erik, I'm sorry." Christine whispered.

"Don't be, it's understandable for you to be curious, but I will explain later, however in the meantime you should focus on your performance."

"We had better go down and start rehearsing. The other girls will probably be down there already, including Meg Giry or she had better be." Madame Giry said warningly.

Christine smiled as she got up to follow Madame Giry.

"We will talk later Madame." Erik said softly.

Madame Giry looked back and nodded before heading out of the door with Christine following.

They walked down the hallway saying nothing for a while until Christine spoke up.

"I'm sorry for the trouble Madame Giry."

"What trouble child?"

"For you having to come and change me last night."

"Its nothing my dear. Erik did not wish to do anything inappropriate and so came and found me. Personally, I didn't know you were that deep a sleeper."

Christine smiled. "It's his music. Have you heard it Madame Giry?"

"Oh yes, many times. He is very talented with his music, as I'm sure you know."

"Oh yes, he certainly is."

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, but we both thought it best not to say anything just yet. I'm sure you can understand."

"Yes, I understand."

"CHRISTINE!" Meg Giry's voice rang out from across the stage.

Christine grinned and ran out to greet her friend on the stage.

"Right everyone, to your places." Madame Giry commanded.

-

Rehearsals had gone well during the day and everyone had come a long way, especially Christine. She was ready in costume with half an hour before the performance was due to start. The Managers had kept her playing in the role of countess at Erik's request, and amazingly enough they had persuaded Carlotta to perform as the page boy, which meant that Piangi would perform too.

Christine sat quietly waiting, whilst the others were busy going through last minute lines or parts of the dance. She felt something furry rub against her arm.

"Hello Porsche, come to wish me luck?" She giggled.

The cat mewed and jumped up onto her lap. Christine began to stroke her when a hissing voice came from behind her.

"Christine my dear, you do know that b-black cats bring bad luck." It was Madame Giry.

Porsche jumped off her lap and looked at Madame Giry. The cat then extended the claws of all four paws and arched her back so that her fur stood on end. She then hissed very loudly.

"Go on off with you, shoo!" Madame Giry hissed back at the cat.

"Madame Giry, Porsche won't hurt you." Christine said defensively.

Madame Giry ignored Christine, and swung her foot at Porsche in an attempt to make her go away. Porsche flattened her ears and stood her ground, her yellow eyes glowing.

"Madame Giry please!" Christine cried. Not wanting Porsche to get hurt.

"Go Porsche!" She commanded.

The cat obeyed streaking away quietly.

"I'm sorry my dear, I do not like black cats."

"I know Madame."

"Just please in future, keep it away from me."

"Why do you have this fear of black cats?"

"One scratched me when I was a child, black just like that, never liked them since. Anyway you're due to start soon. The best of luck and I'm sure he will be greatly pleased."

"Thank you." Christine smiled.

She turned round to see that Carlotta was already in full make-up and costume and moaning to her maid in Spanish. Piangi was at her side trying to get her to lower her voice.

_At least Piangi is trying to calm her down for once, pity she's throwing a tantrum because poor Madame toad doesn't get what she wants._ Christine smirked.

"Can I have your attention for a moment everyone please?" Firmin's voice bellowed over the cast. Andre was standing next to him.

All eyes turned to face them, and the voices became quiet.

"The Performance is about to start so we both wish you luck in the first performance. May I say that you have all worked very hard and that all the staff including myself and monsieur Andre are very proud of you all. So go out there and break a leg."

There was loud applause and some laughs. They all then waited with anticipation for the curtain to rise and the performance of Il Muto to begin.

-

A man in a black cape occupied the seat in box 5. However no one noticed as their attention was focused upon the stage.

Erik could hear the muttering of the audience below him. He caught the words. "Where is Miss Daae? Oh I do hope she is performing. She truly is great and very pretty too." Erik smiled at the topic of conversation.

He was just going to watch the performance without taking any notes, for he had a very good memory, but he had noticed that they had really improved and excelled themselves since the first time he had seen them and this pleased him greatly.

The curtains opened and onstage were three servants of the manor, one female and by her side two male servants. The woman was wearing a purple frilly dress. The man on her right was wearing yellow tights with a matching jacket and the other on her left was wearing the same only it was blue. All three were waving their fans cooling themselves.

The maid that Meg Giry was playing entered from the left, carrying a basket. She made a small curtsey as the female servant began to sing:

"They say that this youth has set my lady's heart aflame."

"His lordship sure would die of shock." Cut in the servant in yellow.

"His lordship is a laughing stock." Followed the other servant.

All of them sang this next bit making the singing level three times as loud. "Should he suspect her. God protect her, shame, shame, shame! This faithless lady's bound for Hades, shame, shame, shame!"

Meg, who was standing on the right side of the servants, made a 'telling off' gesture with the corresponding shames.

The audience began to applaud the opening.

_So far so good._

A second curtain parted revealing the countess and her lover to the audience. They were kissing behind a hand held fan. When they pulled away the pageboy gasped. Only, as it was Carlotta playing the page boy, she let out a squeal instead of a gasp, making Erik smirk.

The setting for this scene was of a grand master bedroom, with Christine as the countess wearing a huge pink dress, and with a very tall hair do and Carlotta as the page boy dressed in a blue striped costume similar to the servants at the beginning.

"Serafimo, your disguise is perfect!" Exclaimed Christine in a very posh accent.

Three loud knocks were made from off stage.

"Why, who can this be?"

Meg went to the right side of the stage to open the door.

Piangi entered wearing a huge, white wig, much like Christine's only a little smaller, Lime Green leggings with a matching jacket and a very big bow tie. He carried a cane in his left hand and his make up gave him the appearance of a male china doll.

"Gentle wife, admit your loving husband."

He then grabbed Meg's behind, making her squeal, which sounded like 'Whoa!' and headed over to stand beside Christine centre stage.

"My love, I'm called to England and must leave you with your new maid."

In the Background Carlotta was cleaning the room, Piangi sneaked up behind her and gave her bottom a little tap. Carlotta turned around to gawp at him; Christine however was not amused and her face had a sour, grumpy look.

Piangi stepped forwards and whispered to the audience: "Though I would happily take the maid with me."

The audience started laughing at this.

_Very good, keep this going._

"The old fool is leaving." Christine said in a slight sarcastic tone.

They both moved centre stage and began to sing with each other.

_They don't sound bad at all together; they harmonize reasonably well, better than Piangi and Carlotta together._ He shivered at the thought of her high pitched squeal ringing in his ears.

Piangi moved over to where he first entered.

"Serafimo away with this pretence!"

Carlotta then threw her disguise off making all the servants on the left side of the stage Gasp: "Oh my!"

"You cannot speak, but kiss me in my husband's absence!" Christine said in that posh accent that she did before.

Carlotta and Christine faced each other, Christine held out the fan as they leaned in to make it look like their characters were kissing.

Piangi who was by the door shook his fist holding his cane, and had an angry, jealous look. Making the audience laugh and applaud.

"Poor fool, he makes me laugh ha ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha… Time I tried to get a better half." Christine sang.

The servants and maids then cut in with: "Poor fool, he doesn't know, ho ho ho ho ho, ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho… If he knew the truth he'd never let her go!"

The audience started to applaud again. Erik knew that the play was soon to come to an end and so decided to wait to see Christine once she had changed. He strode out of box five and headed in the direction of the dressing rooms. Extremely pleased with how it had gone for a first performance.

-

Christine stepped out of the dressing rooms after having changed out of costume and everybody congratulated her on a successful performance. Everyone except Carlotta that is - she was still annoyed about having to be the page boy and not being the number one at the Opera Populaire.

She headed down the corridor to her room, unaware that two bright blue eyes were watching her.

She headed up some stairs.

"Well Done Miss." Joseph Bouquet called out to her.

"Oh thank you very much monsieur." She said warily. She could smell that he had been drinking.

"Let me take you out to dinner sometime."

"That's a very kind gesture. I'll have a think about it."

"You know you're so much better than that squeaky Carlotta." Christine noticed that Bouquet was looking up and down at her, and wore a strange smile. "And so much more beautiful."

Bouquet had lunged forward and grabbed her wrist.

"Please Monsieur Bouquet, let go!" she cried. She attempted to free herself from his grasp, but in doing so he tightened his hold.

"Monsieur Bouquet!"

Bouquet ignored her pleas and shoved her against the wall. She struggled as she felt his hands try to move up to her chest.

Christine then lifted her leg up sharply kneeing Bouquet where it hurt most.

He howled and let go of her, falling to the floor.

She ran as fast as she could back to her room. She slammed the door and locked it, crying.

While she went over to the bed shaking violently, she was totally unaware that Erik had seen the whole incident. He had followed her back to her room to check that she was alright. There wasn't any harm done to her physically but mentally and emotionally she was so shocked at having been attacked like that.

Seeing Christine in a state infuriated him. He was so angry that he was shaking with rage. He only had one thought going through his head.

He then stormed off. Christine was sobbing into her pillow. "Erik… Erik." She choked between sobs. She slipped under the covers and brought her knees up to her chest. She shut her eyes allowing herself to enter her dream world and escape from the memory of her encounter with Monsieur Bouquet.


	12. The Bouquet and the Rose

Chapter 12- The Bouquet and the Rose.

Morning came and Christine's eyes fluttered open. It took her a while to notice who the two golden eyes belonged to and then she realised.

"Good morning Porsche." Said Christine, putting out a hand and running it slowly down the cat's back.

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining and not a cloud could be seen in the sky and yet for such a nice day, Christine could not remember why she felt so miserable. Then the events of the previous night came flooding back to her quicker than Carlotta's voice pierces your ears.

_That…that…AWFUL MAN! _Her eyes were burning and silent tears ran down her pale face.

She looked back over at Porsche, who was stretched on her bed, flat on her back. Christine got dressed, then went over to her door, unlocked it, and went out into the corridor. She would have to avoid Bouquet at all costs.

Erik was in one of his many secret passages, this one happened to be behind a portrait that hung in the dining room; he glanced through the eye piece, surveying the table. There at the far end sat Bouquet.

_Enjoying your last meal?_ He thought. He was ready to strike, ready at any moment to end Bouquet's life.

"Three…" He whispered. "Two…"

At that very moment, Christine walked through the oak doors. Erik stopped himself just in time. He did not want Christine to see Bouquet's corpse hanging from the ceiling.

Christine looked round and then saw Bouquet. Not wanting to go anywhere near him, she went to the furthest unoccupied seat at the table and sat down between Meg and Reyer.

"Good morning Christine." Said Meg merrily. Christine was not sure if she wanted to tell her about what had happened between her and Bouquet the previous night. She was still too shocked to have to recall the events to anyone. "Are you feeling OK?" Meg asked with a note of concern in her voice.

"I'm just really tired from the performance last night and I didn't get much sleep." Christine replied. It was true that she did not get much sleep but the performance certainly wasn't the thing that had kept her awake.

Bouquet finished eating at that moment. He got up and left. He did not remember what had happened, having been drunk.

"Oh no you don't, Bouquet!" Erik hissed and with a swish of his cape he was after him. Then he realised that he didn't have a clue where Bouquet was going, and had no way of telling either.

_Think! Where would a damned stage manager go when he was off duty!? Probably to go and steal some of Christine's clothes and put them under his pillow at night. _Realising that this was one of the most stupid thoughts he had ever come up with, he tried to think rationally.

After a few minutes thinking, he thought he would check the main stage. Maybe he had to get everything back to the way it was before the performance. Erik ran as fast as he could to the main theatre.

"Ah ha!" It seemed that his suspicions were correct, he saw Bouquet on the stage, struggling to take down some backdrops.

Erik crept slowly towards the stage, ducking behind chairs every so often, Punjab lasso at the ready.

_And let's try this again, One… Two…_

"Oi Bouquet!" He knew that voice, it was Firmin. So as not to be seen, Erik activated one of the trapdoors and slipped beneath the stage. The trapdoor had been recently oiled which meant it didn't creak and cause Bouquet to turn round. "What are you doing here man? The performance is over. At least take a little break."

"When do rehearsals for the next production start?" He asked in a very groggy voice.

"There will be a week's notice before that is decided. Come to think of it we have not even decided on a play yet…" He trailed off into thought. "Faust could be a good idea, but I'll have to speak to André about it."

"Well I shall have to get these down in good time sir…"

_Well you'd better hurry up, I don't think even you can get them down in 10 minutes, as that is when you will be at the end of this noose!_

Erik put his hands in his pockets. He had forgotten just how cold it was below the stage. "Ouch." He had pricked his finger on something. Taking his hand out of his pocket, he saw a rose. One of its thorns had a scarlet patch on it. He looked at his finger. For such a small thorn the cut was very deep.

_Maybe I don't need the Punjab lasso…_

"… and I nearly missed my cue, but I remembered just in time…" This was how it always was, the day after the performance. Meg would always enchant Christine with how she nearly forgot a line, missed a cue or didn't move over there quick enough.

"Meg!" Cut in Christine. "We've talked about his before. Nobody noticed so why do we need to talk about it?" Meg looked a little ashamed of herself. They had indeed spoken about this many times before, and on top of everything else that had happened, it was just too much for Christine.

"Where are you going?" Christine had got to her feet without Meg noticing.

"Oh… I've…um…" She was looking around for an excuse. "Got a singing lesson to go to."

_That was the worst thing you could have said._

"Since when have you been taking singing lessons?" Meg asked curiously.

"A while, what does it matter!?" She said angrily. And without another word, she turned on her heels and left.

"No one to save you now…" Hissed Erik, he had dropped the lasso beneath the stage.

He was standing on one of the rope bridges above the stage, watching as Bouquet struggled to try and get yet another backdrop down. There was nobody in sight, and even if there was, they would not be able to get to Bouquet quick enough to save him.

"…………GOTCHA" Shouted Bouquet triumphantly, as one of the backdrops, nicely rolled and tied up, dropped to the floor with a little thud.

_Third time lucky, and no count down this time._

"BOUQUET!"

_Oh god you must be joking. _Thought Erik. _Why does the world suddenly have to revolve around this idiot!_

"What is it ma'am?" He called down to the stage, where Meg Giry was standing.

"I thought I just saw… the opera ghost." She said, trembling. "I could have sworn I just saw… never mind." She turned to leave. "But like mother says; 'Keep your hand at the level of your eyes'." And with that last statement, she walked off.

_The hand at the level of your eyes won't save you Bouquet. _

Erik then had a sudden idea. Moving quickly and quietly, he went over to the nearest backdrop that had not been taken down.

"Hey Bouquet." He said, mimicking the voice of one of the assistant stage managers. "Don't just stand there. Come and give me a hand with this." He said, gesturing to the backdrop, making sure his face was hidden.

"Oh…sorry I didn't see you there." Bouquet said, a note of relief in his trembling voice.

"Why do you tie these things so tight?" Said Erik. "I can't remember them being so awkward."

"You think I'm going to make them loose after what happened during Hannibal rehearsals?" He sounded disbelieving that he didn't remember that incident.

"That was just a one off accident though." Said Erik. "I think you're being para…"

"That was no accident. That was the ghost." He said, trying to sound impressive, only achieving the effect of sounding like a 7 year old having a tantrum.

"What do you know about this ghost?" Asked Erik, sounding a little angry.

"Oh come on. I've told you countless times, Jacob" He obviously had no idea that it was Erik. Erik then noticed that he Bouquet smelt faintly of alcohol.

_Who the hell is Jacob?_ Thought Erik

"Skin like yellow parchment…" He said, sounding quite menacing. "A great black hole where the nose never grew." He was obviously in his element. "And always kills with a Punjab lasso!"

"THAT'S IT" Screamed Erik. "If I don't have a bloody nose then what is this?" He said gesturing to his nose. "And if this is yellow then I would like to see what you call white." He hissed, gesturing to the rest of his face.

Bouquet turned to run, but Erik was too quick for him. He had seized him by the wrist and pulled him back. Bouquet looked as thought he was about to wet himself.

"And…" Whispered Erik in a still more menacing voice. "You were wrong on your third attempt, because for you I am making an exception to the lasso…"

Christine lay on her bed next to Porsche, stroking her sub-consciously. She wondered what Erik was doing.

_Probably composing more of his Don Juan…_

Maybe she would go down and see him. Well, it couldn't hurt just to visit, but what if the boat…

"CHRISTINE!" Somebody shouted through the door. Christine recognized the voice to be Meg's. It would be new gossip no doubt.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Meg burst in through the door, her face as white as a sheet and gasping for breath.

"What is it?" Asked Christine. She had never before seen Meg lose her nerve quite like this.

"It's..." She stammered. "It's… Oh just come with me, you will see." And with that, she seized Christine's wrist and led her out of her room.

It seemed like she was leading her down to the theatre. Christine passed the spot where she remembered seeing Madame Giry talking to Erik. Well, she saw Madame Giry talking to somebody who she assumed was Erik. Why else would she not tell Christine who it was?

Meg pushed open the doors into the main theatre, there was a crowd gathered round the stage.

"Everybody get back!" It was Firmin. Apparently he was at the front of the crowd standing next to a police officer. "I said back! BACK!" The crowd slowly moved away from something.

"What are they all looking at?" Christine asked Meg.

"…Horrible" Meg whispered. "Blood everywhere." This second statement made Christine a little uneasy.

She did not care anymore, without warning she tore away from Meg, pushing through the crowd, and past a very pale toad. When she reached the front, she had to push André and Firmin out of the way until she saw…

"Miss Daae, Please don't…" André said.

"You shouldn't look Miss it's…" The rest of Firmin's words didn't reach Christine's ears. She was too shocked to hear them.

There on the floor, lay Joseph Bouquet. His eyes were wide open, and he had a look of terror in his eyes. He was quite clearly dead. Clutched in his right hand, was a blood red rose. Christine moved closer, only to be stopped by the police officer.

"Please Miss, move away." The Police Officer said in a pleading voice. She could not take her eyes off of the body, however. It didn't take her long to work out who had killed him. The rose made it too obvious. She continued to walk towards Bouquet's corpse. "Miss, I'm afraid I can't let you…" SMACK, Christine hit the ignorant officer round the face; she needed to let out her rage on something. The officer staggered back into the crowd. He did not want to get into a fight with a woman.

"Who found him?" She asked, trying to stay calm.

"It was me." Said a voice from the crowd. Seconds later, Reyer appeared through the crowd. "He was still alive when I did. There was nothing I could do though. He was obviously bleeding to death…"

"Any idea as to… as to who did it?" She asked, not needing an answer.

"We suspect it as a suicide." Said the officer, clearly thinking otherwise. "The cuts on the wrists suggest that they are self inflicted…"

"And the one on the throat." It was not a question, it was a statement. "Last time I looked you don't cut your throat to kill yourself."

"Miss, please just…"

"Don't make me hit you again!" She cut in, tears of rage burning in her eyes. She went over to Bouquet and knelt down next to his right hand, which was in a pool of blood.

She reached out and took the rose from it, then looked at it closely. The thorns were a deep red and unusually long for a rose. Without another moment's hesitation she got up, turned on her heels and marched back through the crowd.

"Miss!" Shouted the police officer. "Miss, I'm afraid you…" SMACK "Can't have that…"

_Composing Don Juan…Composing Don Juan…_ She was furious. She strode down the corridor with the rose clutched in her hand, thorns pressing against her palm and cutting into her skin.

She reached out and turned the handle of her door and walked through. She wondered if Erik was right there, behind the mirror watching her.

"Which one is the damn tile!?" She cursed, but with that, Porsche moved over and put her paw on the tile. "Get out of my way!" She spat at the cat.

Pushing down on the tile, the mirror slid away into the floor. Without another glance at Porsche she stormed off down the tunnel, leading to Erik's domain. The torches were not lit. Maybe that meant he wasn't down there.

It took her a good ten minutes before she reached the lake, and she was surprised to see that the boat was still there. She got in, and began to row.

_Now all I have to do is work out how to get that damn gate up._

But she was surprised yet again, as when she got there, the gate was already up…

_Passarino faithful friend…once again recite the plan... hmmmmm _Erik sat at his piano, once again composing his Don Juan.

"ERIK!" Came a voice from the other room. "WHERE ARE YOU? I KNOW YOU'RE HERE SOMEWHERE."

_Oh great, just great, so much for keeping your promises…_

There was a sudden silence. Erik decided to play something on the piano, really not knowing what he was going to say to Christine. Suddenly the door swung open.

"You…You." She stammered. Now that she was here, she hadn't got a clue what she was going to say and, to top it all off, there he was, composing his Don Juan.

"Me…Me" Said Erik, his voice emotionless and monotonic. He turned on the stool to face her. "There is no singing lesson today."

"Don't play smart with me Erik." She replied, enraged. "I think you forgot something." And with that, she tossed the rose at him, her hands bloody from the thorns.

"You need to get those cleaned up, they could be infected." A note of nervousness was in his voice now. "Wait here, I'll…"

"If you think I'm going to let you anywhere near my wrists then think again!" Something in Erik's voice seemed to infuriate her. "Why did you kill him? Steal your rose did he?"

"I may be scarred Christine but I'm not blind." He said, looking her straight in the eyes.

"So what about what he did to me, he was drunk…"

"I said, I may be scarred Christine, not blind. Drop the sword!" This was something Christine had not been expecting. "Drop it!"

"I'm not a dog thank you very much!" Shouted Christine, and with that, she unsheathed the sword she had behind her back, and brought it to Erik's neck.

"Are you going to kill me?" He asked, not one note of panic in his voice.

"You are a murderer." She stated.

"And you will be too if you kill me." He said coldly. "You've never killed a person before. Am I right?" Christine didn't say anything. "I thought so. You are not a killer."

"But you are!" She hissed back at him.

"Your point?"

Christine raised the sword, ready to strike. Now or never, she had to do it.

_He kills anyone without hesitation. If you don't stop him then nobody will._

She brought the sword swiping through the air. There was a flash of light, a puff of smoke, and he had vanished, leaving Christine's sword to slice through thin air.

"As I said. You are not a killer. You could not kill me even if you wanted to." His voice echoed from all round the room. "You knew I was going to do that. If you had wanted to kill me then you would have done it sooner."

_He's right,_ She thought. Her sword hand went limp, and the sword clattered to the floor.

Then, from behind her, a hand closed over her mouth, holding a damp cloth which smelled awful. She struggled to get free. "Don't fight it." Said a voice in her ear. She became drowsy. Whatever was on this cloth was taking effect. "I had to kill him. I did not want you running in fear from a drunken stage manager." She was feeling limp all over but she could not let him win. He was a killer…

A few seconds later she gave in. Erik lifted her off her feet and took her to the guest room. Porsche, who had somehow snuck on the boat, was right behind him.

He laid her down on the bed. It was warm enough for her to not need the blankets. After a few seconds making sure she was comfortable, he left her and Porsche in the room.

Erik went back to the music room and picked up the sword. It was the same one that she had used in the fight that they had with the skull and crossbones hilt, Christine's personal favourite.

He returned it to the armoury and then thought about going back to his Don Juan, but thought better of it. After what just happened, he doubted that he would be able to concentrate and so he went to his bedroom, and opened the door. He went to go and sit on his bed but the problem was there was already someone sitting on it…


	13. The Persian

Chapter 13 – The Persian

"I never knew you were so good with the ladies, Erik!" Said the figure.

"Daroga!" Erik exclaimed. "What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack!"

The Persian smiled at Erik. He had Ebony colored skin and two jade eyes, which stood out effectively. In contrast to his skin he wore a long white coat, which came down to his knees when he stood up.

"You need to have a heart before you have an attack, dear friend." Said Daroga, coldly.

Erik glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean, Daroga!"

Daroga gave Erik a piercing look. "Why, the death of Monsieur Bouquet, you showed no remorse."

"I had my reasons." Erik replied coldly. "What exactly did you hear?"

"Everything, You seemed scared when you realised she had a sword behind her. She is very brave to oppose you, but fancy you 'The Phantom of the Opera', being afraid of a mere child." He said mockingly.

"What kind of greeting is this then?" Erik spat. "I find you sitting on my bed without invitation and listening in to private matters."

"Well, _you_ could have been a little more polite." He said with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

_Damn him, he can be so infuriating at times when he remains this calm!_

Erik gritted his teeth, Daroga was still smiling. Finally Erik gave in and sighed deeply.

"It's good to see you again my friend. I trust you have been keeping well. To what do I owe this pleasure? Have you been away?" Erik held out his handas a friendly gesture, which Daroga shook in return.

"Oh yes I have, I have been travelling, but as I have come to Paris for a few days. I thought I would stop by to see you. If that is alright with you?" He asked.

"Yes, Yes of course, come to the kitchen. I'll fix up something to eat."

He loves my chicken soup. I'll make some of that and then I'll go and check on Christine 

"I see Miss Daae is sleeping rather heavily. May I go and check on her for you?" He said as if he read Erik's mind. Usually it was the other way round.

"If you must, but don't wake her up. Your soup may be some time before its ready, but you're welcome to read in the library until then. I will come and join you while I leave the soup to boil."

With that Daroga made his way to the room where Christine lay. He walked up to the bed and looked down at her. All he could hear was the sound of her gentle breathing, and he examined her more closely.

She has been chloroformed. It seems he used quite a lot in order to sedate her for this amount of time. It is clear that she was shocked by the death of Monsieur Bouquet from the way that she shouted at Erik.

He looked around and took a small bottle from the inside of his coat, removed the top and waved it under her nose. Her head moved from side to side and her eyes slowly opened. She groaned.

"Hush dear child, you need your rest." He said, concern laced in his voice.

"Who… Who are you? Where's Erik?" she whispered in a tiny voice.

"Don't worry. He is here. My name is Daroga and I'm a great friend of Erik's. I will leave you for now. Please stay in bed. You will feel very light headed should you stand up."

She didn't attempt to make any more movements and closed her eyes.

The Persian pocketed the small bottle, and headed out of her room towards the library, to find Erik already there, sitting in an armchair with a book neatly balanced on one knee.

"Please Daroga, help yourself to a book. The soup will be ready in about half an hour." He whispered without looking up.

Daroga sat down in a chair opposite him, and looked at Erik curiously, although the Phantom did not meet his gaze.

"You've trained her well Erik." He said plainly.

"You saw one of her performances did you?"

"Yes the recent one, Il Muto. She will go far with a voice like hers, no doubt."

"You didn't wake her up did you with one of your foul smelling things?"

"Chloroform is just as bad."

"You did wake her, didn't you?" Erik hissed, his eyes left the book and met with the P

persian's dark jade ones.

"No, I did not." He lied. "Surely you know when I'm lying and when I'm telling the truth."

Erik looked back down to his book. Porsche had just come in and curled up by Erik's feet.

_Just unfortunately I can't tell this time. I suppose I should trust him for now. It isn't like Daroga to lie._

His friend then got up and headed over to the nearest bookshelf from where he removed a blue covered book, sat back down in front of Erik and began to read.

-

Christine's eyes opened once more. Her vision was certainly a lot clearer than it had been when she opened her eyes before. Whatever Erik had drugged her with had finally worn off.

She slid out off the bed and carefully walked out of the door. She could neither see nor hear anyone.

_Where is he! I could kill him! But who was that man who woke me, Daroga? A friend of Erik's? That's odd he never mentioned him before. _She thought curiously.

"Erik!" she called.

No response.

"Erik!" She called louder. "Where are you!"

She looked around wide-eyed. What if he had left her? What if she was trapped here alone? She ran to where the boat was kept and saw to her relief that it was still there. He hadn't gone anywhere, so where was he?

"ERIK!"

Her voice rang though the entire catacomb. This time Erik did hear it for she heard him call her name.

"Christine?"

She whirled round to face him. He was right behind her now. He was looking at her simply.

"I did hear you the first time. Are you feeling better?"

Christine marched up to him, and started to pound on his chest. She started screaming at him at the top of her voice. She was confused, upset and angry.

"WHY DID YOU KILL HIM? WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME! YOU PROMISED ME, PROMISED ME THAT YOU WOULDN'T HURT ANYONE! WHY ERIK, WHY? TELL ME WHY!"

Sobs racked her poor body. She was shaking violently.

Erik reached for her wrists, gently restrained them and placed her hands down by her side.

"Please Christine, come and sit in the library. We will talk later, but right now we have a guest."

"That fellow in the white overcoat." She realised.

"Did he wake you? With one of his smelling salts?"

"I – I'm not sure. But I don't feel well."

"It's nothing that my chicken soup won't cure. Would you care for some?"

She nodded gratefully and followed him timidly to the library. She thought it would be best to ask questions later. He obviously didn't want their matters to be discussed whilst in the presence of a visitor.

Christine didn't know that he had a library. When she walked into the room what a sight met her eyes. This had to be a very big room. Bigger than the ones that she had seen before. Except the hall by the lake, if you could call that a room.

This room had thousands of shelves. On which stood what looked like millions and millions of books which were all stacked very neatly. There was a little fireplace opposite the door, and in the middle were a few deep, red arm chairs which looked very comfortable. One was occupied to the man she had seen before. The one she recognised to be Daroga, who smiled and stood up to greet her.

"Ah Mademoiselle, I'm very pleased to see that you're awake. I apologise for my very brief introduction before. As you know my name is Daroga, but commonly known by reputation as the Persian."

"I'm very honoured to meet you Monsieur." She replied making a small curtsey.

She turned round to see if Erik was there but he had disappeared. She sighed and went to sit down on the nearest seat.

Daroga chuckled. "He will be back with his fantastic chicken soup that he is making. You can probably smell it?"

Christine smiled. "Oh yes, it smells like heaven. He really is a great cook. As well as great with his music, don't you agree?"

"Why yes, oh, and before I forget, congratulations on your performance yesterday. I very much enjoyed it."

"Thank you, I'm very glad you did."

At that moment Erik entered carrying a silver tray on which were two bowls of chicken soup, a small basket with cut French bread and two silver spoons with a single knife for the butter. He placed the tray on the floor before getting a small table to put the bowls and the basket of bread on.

"Here you are. Please tuck in. I hope you enjoy it." He said proudly, before picking up the tray and heading toward the door.

"My dear friend, won't you dine with us?"

"No, I'm afraid not Daroga. I'm not very hungry and I have work to do."

_His Don Juan, I bet_. Christine thought.

"But please, do enjoy your meal, and feel free to do as you wish. If you need me, I shall be composing at the piano. Porsche come! Sorry but I don't want her sharing your chicken soup. She will have her own later."

With that, he walked out of the room with Porsche, leaving Christine and the Persian in the library and headed to the Piano to compose more of his Don Juan, which Christine had already guessed.

"So, how do you and Erik know each other?" Christine asked the Persian.

"Oh, we go way back." He said, in a very casual tone. "I've known Erik since he was very young."

Christine thought for a moment. She had never heard Erik, or anybody else for that matter, talk about his childhood.

"I remember it well." Continued Daroga, "The market was just closing for the night, and a very cold night it was too…" He paused, while both he and Christine took a spoonful of soup. "…so, the market stall was closing down and Erik stole some food and a few pieces of scrap metal…"

"Scrap metal?" Christine interjected.

"He's an architect, so scrap metal to us is a world of opportunity to him." He took another spoonful of soup. "So anyway, I saw him steal everything, which as you can imagine, didn't go down too well with Erik."

_I'll bet._ Thought Christine.

"But luckily, he had no Punjab lasso with him that night and so he thought that he would try and scare me off by removing his mask." He put particular emphasis on the last three words. "I bet you can imagine the shock he got when I didn't move. To be honest, I pitied him."

Another long pause followed these words, during which, Daroga drained the last of his soup from his bowl.

"Ever since then Erik and I have been good friends, and I visit him here whenever possible. I must say that it is remarkable how much this place has changed over the years…"

"Why was Erik ever here in the first place?" Christine asked curiously.

Daroga looked puzzled at this. "What… you mean he hasn't told you?"

"Told me what?" Said Christine.

The Persian paused for a second. "Erm... Actually, it's not my place to say."

"But if you don't, Erik may not ever."

"Really my dear I have told you too much." Daroga said whilst his eyes scanned the room.

"And that he has…" Came Erik's voice from nowhere.

_How does he do that? He can throw his voice into a room without him being present._

"You have bitten off more than you can chew Daroga." The Phantom continued.

"Erik, my dear friend I am very sorry, I presumed that Mademoiselle Daae knew everything…"

"Well, don't presume!" Erik snapped.

Christine chirped in to stop the argument from escalating. "Erik, please, I wanted to know about you. It wasn't Daroga's fault."

"Christine, please go to your room. I will call you when I want you." Erik said icily.

"But I haven't…"

"Go to your room NOW!" Erik spat.

"…Finished my soup." She finished in a mournful voice.

With that Christine marched out of the room leaving Erik talking to the Persian. She shut the door and stood outside to listen to the conversation.

"_Erik, I'm ever so sorry, I thought she knew."_ He said, pleading for forgiveness.

"_No she doesn't." _

"_I know that now, I didn't think. She gave no indication that she was unaware of your past."_

"_I didn't want her to know, because I fear her reaction. I don't want to lose her Daroga. I…" _Erik suddenly trailed off.

"_You what?"_

"_It appears that the term 'even walls have ears' would be the correct one to use at this precise moment. I know that you're listening, Christine."_

"I will be in my bedroom. I'm sorry." She whispered.

With that she went into the room where the swan shaped bed lay. She perched on the end of it, letting her thoughts gather.

_What is with Erik and his change of moods? And what does he think will happen if I know his past? I would like to know. Even if it was bad then maybe I can understand why he is like he is. But why did he cut off his sentence? Oh I just don't know what is going on._

-

"You love her don't you?" Daroga stated. "That is what it is. Am I right?"

"Yes, it is true. She's the only one I have ever felt this way about. But I can't have her know that. It's not the right time. We haven't known each other long enough."

"I'm sure she would understand, and as she doesn't know about your past, well what happened at the circus and all."

Daroga cut off his sentence as Erik shot him a nasty look.

"Please don't remind me of what happened. I hate it. My past has shaped me into the beast I am now." He said quickly, a trace of fear laced in his voice.

"Maybe she will understand why you killed Bouquet. That's if you tell her." Daroga said cautiously.

"We will see, but where would I start? There is so much. I don't know whether she would be able to cope. I had a perfectly good reason for delivering that drunk the consequences of taking advantage of a young girl like Christine!" Erik sobbed with hatred.

"But maybe delivering the consequences shed you in a darker light to her." Daroga said quietly.

"What do you think I should do Daroga?" Erik pleaded with the Persian.

"Whatever feels right to you." He replied wisely. "I will leave you for now, but I will return, perhaps in the next few days as I'm staying in Paris a little longer."

"Then I look forward to your return visit and thank you, Daroga." Erik's voice lightened.

"The pleasure was all mine. Thank you for your hospitality and I apologise again, for any trouble I may have caused." Daroga extended his hand.

"Think nothing of it." Erik replied, and clasped The Persians outstretched hand. "You know the way out."

"The same way I came in." He smiled, before heading off in the direction of the lake.

-

Christine waited patiently on the bed, hoping they would be done talking soon.

She stood up as she heard quiet footsteps approach the door, then a knock.

"Erik?" she asked.

"Yes, it's me my dear. May I come in? There are things I need to talk with you about." He said softly with a nervous trace in his voice.

Christine opened the door and revealed Erik on the other side. He didn't look quite the same as usual. It was as if, for the first time, he was very nervous and this time it showed.

"What things? Does it concern your past? Look, I'm sorry about the conversation I had with Daroga. I wanted to understand, and he thought I knew. It wasn't his fault." She said quickly.

"I know. I lost my temper and I'm sorry. I don't like discussing my past but I feel now is the time you knew about the events. Maybe you will understand why I am the way that I am." He whispered softly.

He held out his arm and gestured towards the bed. She went and perched on the end, and patted the space next to her. He walked over swiftly and sat down beside Christine.

"I will explain things gradually. If there is anything you don't wish to know about then please just tell me and I will stop."

Christine nodded and watched him closely. She knew that he was searching for a place to begin.

Erik paused, and cleared his throat.

"I was born with this deformity but my mother couldn't bear to look at me, and this mask… it was my first unfeeling scrap of clothing which I have had ever since she gave it to me, in a bid to look at me without seeing this." He indicated to his mask.

He swallowed hard. "She was afraid of me. She couldn't bear to touch me or hug me. It had been like that for years, but when I turned 8 years of age, that's when my nightmare of a life began."


	14. Reliving Nightmares

Chapter 14 – Reliving Nightmares.

"_Maman?" Erik asked._

_Catherine Destler turned around and stared at her five-year-old child, a relieved look fluttered across her face._

"_Yes!" She spat._

"_Why do I have to wear this mask?" He asked timidly. "It's very itchy."_

_He brought his hand up and tried to remove it. His scarred face had begun to itch._

"_Don't!" she snapped at him._

_Erik froze, but his expression didn't change. "Why Maman? Why do you hate my face so much?"_

"_Others will fear you, you despicable child!" She hissed. _

"_Maman?"_

"_I told you. Do not ever remove your mask or you will die. Your life depends on that mask on your face. Your face is cursed!" She stated bitterly._

_She didn't look at him, simply stared out of the window watching the raindrops fall from the grey clouds lurking in the sky._

"_Will I really die if I take this mask off Maman?" He asked fearfully._

"_Yes, you will, and you will go to hell and so will I. Now do you want that to happen?" She nearly shrieked._

"_No!" Erik cried. "No Mama, I don't want you to go to hell!"_

_Erik ran forward and wrapped his arms round his mother._

_Instead of embracing him, like a mother would normally do if their son hugged them, she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away from her with all her might, sending him crashing to the floor, landing on his back._

"_DON'T TOUCH ME!" She screamed, and backed herself against the wall._

_Erik looked at his mother, tears welling up in his eyes. He reached up and rubbed his head where it had collided with the floor._

"_Go, to you room, and don't come out again." She said angrily._

_Erik got up on his tiny little legs and ran as fast as he could to his room. He flung the mask off and sat in the middle of the floor, weeping._

_Thoughts whirled round his mind. Even at 5 years old he was more advanced in most areas of development than others of his age. Why did his mother hate him so much for the way he looked? Would he really be killed and his mother sent to hell if he took the mask off?_

_He could hear his mother whispering to herself as if she was talking to someone. It wasn't unusual. Erik would even hear her in the middle of the night weeping. "Why am I cursed? I never committed any sins, yet I have given birth to the spawn of the devil. No-one must ever see him. What am I to do? Why did you leave me Pierrick?"_

Pierrick was the only man who his mother had ever loved, and he loved her back equally. When she had told him that she was pregnant, he left her, not wanting the responsibility of being a father as they were both very young. Pierrick did not wish to bring shame on his family if the world found out that he was a father but was not married.

Catherine kept her pregnancy a secret, fearing terrible consequences would happen as she was giving birth to a bastard. She wanted to keep the baby, despite Pierrick having left her. She knew that his baby would keep the memory of him alive and desperately wanted to hold onto that. She was hoping for a perfect child that she could live with, bring up and end up having a happy life.

When Erik was born, her opinion of him completely changed because of his hideous deformity, on the right side of his face. On the other hand he had his fathers blue eyes and her dark thick hair, which were really the only things Catherine liked about her son. Love was a too strong a word.

Erik's name had come from Pierrick. It was a name similar to his and was one of the things that would remind her of him. She had never really gotten over the fact that he had left her. She gave him her surname of Destler as she was not married to Erik's father. She didn't feel it was right to use his surname, and was also still angry with him choosing his family's opinions over his love for her.

Over the years she never talked about his father. She only described his appearance, but she had pictures of him in her room. She never allowed Erik to look at them. He had only caught a glimpse of one once, and from what he could make out, he had his father's eyes and some features of his face, and he also had Pierrick's build; Slim built but with very broad shoulders and a wide back.

Erik was never allowed to set foot outside of the house. His mother had always made up excuses saying that he would become seriously ill or something along those lines. But the real reason was because she was ashamed of her son, of his scarred face. 

Now there was this mask making his face itch like mad. It was getting worse. He decided to take it off and rub his face gently to try and soothe it.

He stopped as his door creaked open.

"What is the mask doing off your face?" Catherine demanded.

"My scar, it was itchy. I just tried to make it stop but I had to take the mask off so I could help it mama." Erik explained.

"And didn't I warn you that if you took that mask off then you would die?"

"Yes, but mama, no one can see me."

"But I can!" she wailed at him.

"So what mama?"

Catherine's lips thinned and her face was contorted with rage at being spoken back to in any sort of way.

She stepped towards him, tensely.

"Stand up!" She said fiercely.

Erik did not hesitate and stood up.

Without warning, Catherine's hand struck him hard across the face.

"Don't you…"

She struck him again.

"Ever answer me back…"

And again.

"Again!" She screamed.

Erik said nothing, just stood there with his mouth open, feeling his cheek sting madly. He was more shocked than hurt because she had not struck him like that before. She may have smacked him on the hand, and that didn't really hurt, but across the face as hard as she did, it was beginning to hurt very badly. His cheek burned and was red raw where her hand had come into sudden contact with it.

"Put the mask on now!" She said a little more calmly than she had done before.

Erik didn't hesitate and fixed the mask back on his face.

"You will go to bed without supper. I don't want another sound from you. Do you understand me?"

Erik didn't look at her; he kept his eyes fixed to the floor.

"ERIK DESTLER!" She shouted causing him to jump.

"Yes, mama." He said weakly.

With that she walked briskly out of the door and slammed it shut, locking it from the other side.

Erik sighed and took his mask off before climbing into bed. He blew out the candle at his bedside and fell asleep almost instantly.

-

"She bought you that mask when you were 5?" Christine said, astonished.

"Yes, and I've worn it ever since. That was only the beginning of my life, when I really realised that I was never going to be accepted by anyone, not even my own mother." He ended bitterly.

"That's awful. Did she treat you like that most of the time?" She asked sadly.

"All of the time." He replied.

"Daroga mentioned about the way you two first met. Has that got anything to do with what you're going to tell me?" Christine inquired.

"That's later on but, as I said, the real nightmare began after my eighth birthday, but I think that I have told you enough for now."

Christine placed her hand on Erik's arm. "Please, Erik, go on."

"Are you sure you wish to hear this Christine? If I tell you it might be too much."

Christine's hand slid down his arm to meet his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She smiled at him and leant forward slightly.

Erik swallowed hard. Over the years he had tried very hard to rid himself of the past that haunted him in his dreams. At times he used to wake up during the night having had nightmares about it. Now he was about to tell the girl he loved the very thing he had sworn to himself would never be brought up again.

"It was when I was eight years old; it was just a normal day like any other…" He began.

-

Erik, now 8 years old was sitting in the living room of the small cottage that he and Catherine lived in. He was sitting on the sofa reading, waiting for the sound of his mother's return. She had gone to do the shopping for the week and, as Erik was never allowed outside, he would just sit quietly with his head buried in a book. He had taught himself to read and write, as his mother was of no help, and it was one of his favourite things to do to pass the time.

Erik glanced at the clock nearby. It read half past two.

She should be back soon. He thought to himself.

A few minutes later, he heard the key slide into the lock and turn; she was back, but the strange thing was that there were more footsteps than just hers. Erik stood up and listened to the faint voices; from what he could tell they belonged to his mother and another, a man. The footsteps were too heavy to just be two people. Erik dropped to the floor pressing his ear to the carpet listening to the footsteps in the hallway, and he counted two other people. What was going on?

He stood up again and shut his eyes to listen; he found that his hearing always sharpened if he shut his eyes. He heard them speak again and this time he caught all the words that were said:

"How much will you pay me for him?" Said his mother's voice.

"Once we see what we are getting. We will pay you what ever we see fit Mademoiselle."

Erik was shocked at what he had just heard; his mother was selling him to the man that the gruff voice belonged too.

"Well where is he?" The man asked impatiently.

"Through that door, in the living room, he usually reads in there." Catherine replied.

Footsteps thudded towards the door and it swung open. As Erik had counted there were three men at the door. All of them looked very scruffy and very scary looking.

"There is no one here!" The man shouted.

"He – he must be in one of the other rooms." She said, sounding worried.

"Roscoe, Desoto, go and search in the other rooms. I'll have a look in here." He ordered.

The two men left, leaving the one who was standing in the middle there. When Erik had heard the footsteps he had quickly hidden behind the sofa. His heart was pounding in his chest.

He heard the man's footsteps coming closer.

"There's no where to hide boy. We just wanna look at ya." He teased menacingly.

Erik saw part of his foot near the back of the sofa.

The man sprung round to the back of the sofa where Erik had been. "GOTCHA!" He yelled. But there was no one there.

The man growled and cursed under his breath. Erik again had quickly moved to the other side of the sofa, opposite where the man was standing. He could feel himself panting. He was terrified.

"Come on you brat. I know you're in here somewhere."

He walked away from the sofa to check the curtains. Erik quickly shifted round to the front part of the sofa. He heard the man pull back the curtains, but as he couldn't find him, he again cursed under his breath.

"Roscoe, Desoto? Have you found the boy yet?" He yelled.

"No boss, no sign." Came a distant reply from one of them.

"Are you sure he didn't leave the house Mademoiselle?"

"He has never set foot out of this house. He is obviously hiding." She stated.

'That's what you think?' Erik thought.

Little did his mother know that, late at night, he used to slip out of the house unnoticed and wander the streets until dawn. He had only experienced the world outside by the shadows of moonlight. He preferred it that way. No one could see him, and to him it was like all of the city's streets were his playground. There was no one around who could stop him from having some amusement and entertainment.

Erik looked at the door that was opposite him. It was open. He would have to make a run for it. This would be his bid for freedom. Who knew what awaited him if they caught him and took him away.

It was now or never!

Erik got up and sprinted towards the door.

"OI, STOP!" The man shouted behind him.

Erik ran round the corner and down the hallway, and tried to open the front door. It was locked.

He was terrified. This was his only way of escaping.

"MAMA!" He screamed.

He felt two hands grab both of his arms and squeeze them tightly.

"GET OFF ME!" He yelled.

"Stay still you little runt." One of the henchmen growled.

"Well done Roscoe, now to remove that mask." The boss said smirking.

He saw his mother standing behind him. "I warn you. His face is quite horrendous. But hopefully it is what you are looking for." She said in a cheerful way.

Erik squirmed in Roscoe's grasp, but the more he did the tighter the henchman's grip became.

Tears were streaming down Erik's face, "Mama?" He pleaded.

The other henchman, who he guessed was Desoto, slowly reached to take the mask off. His hand passed near Erik's mouth, 'You are not removing my mask!' he thought, so clamped his jaw over Desoto's hand and bit it as hard as he could.

"YOWL!" Desoto yelped. "That little devil bit me."

"The boss stepped forward. "Oh so we have a vicious little one here. I like that." He said mockingly.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry about that. Here let me bandage that up for you." Catherine said, hurrying into the kitchen.

"Well now we get to see what disgusting face is behind that mask." The boss teased.

He reached for the mask and pulled it off slowly.

All three of the men started howling with laughter at Erik's deformed face.

"Ha! This is brilliant. We need someone like him. He can be the new attraction to the circus, The Devil's Child." He said, amazed at his own idea.

"The money, please monsieur, then take him. He is all yours." Catherine said timidly and then handed the bandages to Desoto.

"Here you are." He replied, giving her a sack full of money. "Pleasure doing business with you mademoiselle. Come on lads. Let's go."

"MAMA!" Erik screamed as Roscoe started to drag him towards the door.

"I'm sorry Erik." She mouthed.

"MAMA!" He tried again.

"Shut up. Quick, get him in the cage then let's go."

"MAMA PLEASE DON'T LET THEM TAKE ME!" He choked between sobs.

Erik then felt something heavy crash over his head and everything went black.

-

"And when I woke up I found myself behind bars, in a cage." Erik ended.

He looked to Christine, her eyes had filled with tears, and her lip was quivering.

"Oh, Erik." She wept.

Her hand cupped his left cheek and she stroked it gently with her thumb.

"I'm so sorry. I really am truly." She sobbed.

She let her tears fall freely down her face.

"It's alright. I escaped from that life but it has shaped me into the person I am now." He said sadly.

Christine said nothing, but leant forward and rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms round his waist firmly as if she never wanted to let him go.

Erik was surprised by this, and he wasn't sure quite how to respond.

Should I hug her back? Hold her for a while?

He was hesitant at first, but slowly slid his hands round to her back then moved up to her shoulders and pulled her ever so slightly closer to him, never wanting this moment to end.

They embraced each other for a while, neither saying anything. They both obviously enjoyed the physical contact, but Erik for the first time had been hugged with proper emotion, and it felt amazing to him.

After what seemed like a lifetime they let go of each other. Christine's tears had dried and disappeared and had been replaced by a smile. Erik smiled back at her, noticing how beautiful she was. To him she was perfect, and he could never feel that way about anyone else.

"I will not go into any detail about my life there. I would, but it pains me to do so. I hope you forgive me."

"I understand. You don't have to tell me anything you do not wish to." She replied with a smile.

"Would you care to stay here for the night?" He asked.

"Yes, I would very much." She smiled hoping he would ask.

"Very well, would you like some coffee?"

"Yes please."

Erik stood up and started to head off toward the kitchen.

"Erik." Christine called after him. "May I ask you something?"

He turned round. "You may."

She paused slightly pondering over whether she should ask him.

"How did you escape?"


	15. The Uninvited Guest

Chapter 15- The Uninvited Guest

"I'm afraid that I can only give you half an answer to that." Said Erik, choosing his words carefully. "So, if you wish to hear it in full detail then I am afraid that you will have to wait."

Christine did not feel like pressing the matter any further. She was still taking in all that Erik had told her about his childhood. He had told her that it may be too much and it nearly was.

"Christine?"

"Hmmm? Sorry, I was just…" She paused, staring blankly at Porsche, who was curled up in an armchair. "…thinking."

"Please don't brood about this too much. What's done is done, and thinking about it won't change anything." Erik's voice was calm, but Christine sensed that he thought he had told her too much. "You look tired…"

"I do?" Christine said, unable to stifle a yawn. Erik smiled.

"Come on Porsche… oh great." Erik spotted the sleeping cat. "Lazy thing." He said, scooping up Porsche into his arms.

Christine walked alongside Erik to the familiar guest room. Once there, Erik put Porsche down on the floor, but had to pick her up again straight away as she had curled up to go to sleep again.

"What am I going to do with you, eh?" He said to the cat, scratching her behind the ears. Christine couldn't help but giggle as she walked over to the bed. Erik then proceeded to dump Porsche on the chair in the far corner of the room.

"Goodnight Erik." Said Christine as Erik walked over to the door.

"Goodnight Christine" And with that, he closed the door. He was feeling better than he ever had in his entire life, which he thought was mainly due to the hug.

He was in such a dreamy state, that it took him about a minute before he realised that he was being watched. Turning round, he saw Daroga, who was wearing a very boyish grin.

"I thought you had left." Said Erik, a bit annoyed that Daroga had been listening to their conversation. Daroga obviously noticed this.

"Don't worry. I've only just got back. I just heard you say goodnight." Erik seemed to calm down a bit at this, but still looked questioningly at the Persian. "Oh, and I couldn't get out. People were wandering around in the entrance hall, so I couldn't get out there. I couldn't tell with the second floor corridor but it sounded like that toad, what's her name…"

"Carlotta?"

"Yes that's the one. She was talking to Piangi and I couldn't use the mirror because Antoinette's child was skulking around Christine's room." He looked at Erik, who, Daroga was pleased to see, looked as though he believed him.

"What was Meg doing in there?" He asked.

"Nothing much, it looked as though she was looking for something. I can't imagine her stealing from Christine though."

There was a long pause. Erik and Daroga both went to the kitchen and sat down. Daroga's boyish grin reappeared.

"So…?" Erik was really tempted to say 'so what?', but thought better of it. He knew exactly what 'So?' meant.

"She took it surprisingly well." Stated Erik.

"Oh I don't think that it is that much of a surprise." Replied Daroga, a wry grin on his face. "I mean… she is very fond of you."

Erik nearly dropped the cup he had in his hand. Christine? Fond of him? Daroga, seeing that Erik was in deep thought, just continued to grin, causing Erik to say, rather slyly…

"If she is fond of me then how is it that she nearly took my head off with a sword?"

"Oh, that was before you explained everything to her. I mean, you can barely talk. If you're in a mood with anyone you just hang them! Or…" Daroga gave a very noticeable shudder. "You throw them in… there." He pointed at a very old looking door. The wood of the frame was rotting, and there was a cobweb on the large keyhole. He had a look on his face as though remembering something very painful. Erik noticed this.

"That was your fault, Daroga, not mine." He had just finished making two cups of tea. Daroga hadn't noticed him making them. The thought of whatever was in this room was clearly still a painful one.

"When was the last time you actually checked…well…that place." Asked Daroga, gesturing once more towards the door.

"Whenever it is impossible for me to pretend that I can't hear the screams." Replied Erik in a very sinister tone.

Daroga started to drink his cup of tea, still staring uneasily at the door. Erik was staring blankly in front of him.

"What are you thinking about?" Asked Daroga.

"Hmmm? Oh, I was just thinking of lyrics for my 'Don Juan Triumphant'" He replied, though Daroga was not entirely sure that he was being truthful.

Daroga drank the last of his tea, set it down on the table, then walked over to the exit from the kitchen.

"I'm going to try the way out into the entrance hall again. It's getting late, and I doubt that anyone will actually be around in there." He nodded politely to Erik. "Thank you for not going mad when you found out that I was still here."

"Anytime, old friend, anytime." Erik walked over to Daroga and shook his hand. "Until we meet again."

"I'm sure that I will be back very soon. By the way… you don't happen to know what the next production is going to be, do you?"

"I heard the managers saying something about 'Faust'. Well, whatever it is, it's going to be much better without Joseph Bouquet as the stage manager." Erik's face darkened at the thought of Bouquet.

"OK, thank you Erik. I will see you in the near future I hope."

Daroga then turned and left. Erik was so deep in thought that he didn't realise just how tired he was. He went to his room, got undressed, and settled into bed, still deep in thought. He could not remember the last thing that he thought as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

_I know that there is something in here that you are hiding from me Christine…_

Meg was still searching Christine's room, even though she was not entirely sure what se was looking for. She knew that when she found it however, she would know. Meg spent a lot of time looking through Christine's desk drawers, convinced that there would be something in there that shouldn't be, but she was disappointed just to find parchment, quills, ink, lots of screwed up notes that seemed to be lines from previous productions, and jewellery.

"Grrrr, I know you are hiding something from me Christine, and I am going to find it." Meg had a habit of thinking out loud, but even by doing so it did not help her think what Christine could possibly be hiding from her.

_Come to think of it… where is Christine?_

This thought had only just occurred to Meg. She knew that she had definitely walked in the general direction of her room, was even pretty sure that she went in it. It was actually a stroke of luck that she wasn't in it. It meant that Meg was free to look around without suspicion.

"OOOOOWWWW!" Meg had just caught her foot on the edge of the bed. Cursing, she sat down against the wall, massaging her throbbing toe. "Perhaps…it's best… that I just… talk with Christine." She thought out loud. She leant back against the wall, but instead, fell straight on her back. Meg thought that she had been leaning against the wall, but she hadn't. She had been leaning against the large mirror and it had gone…

"Isn't it funny…" She said to herself. "That when you are looking for something, you always seem to find it in the last place that you look…oh but…" A sudden thought just occurred to her. "I suppose it would have to be, because…you wouldn't continue looking…oh well, I've found something!" She boomed the last three words triumphantly, and a pack of rats came scuttling by her feet. It took all of her self control not to scream.

She walked down the gloomy passage, then thought that she better take a candle. She turned to go back to Christine's room and get one, only to find that, to her horror, the mirror had slid back into place.

_I will just have to wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. That's all, and besides, a little darkness never hurt anyone._

She again started to walk down the passageway into the unknown. Fortunately there were no turns and so all she had to do was follow the passageway. Eventually she came to a very large spiral staircase, which seemed to go down for miles.

_Well, there's no use hanging about. I should try to get to the bottom of this… if there is a bottom._

She started to walk down the stairs, counting as she went…10, 20, 50, 100, 200…

"Yes… absolute…" She was gasping for breath. "…miles." She then paused so that she could catch her breath. "Right… 262, 263, 264, 265." She started to jump two at a time. "267, 269, 271… I must be near the bottom by now I must be… 273, 275, 277." She started to run down the steps as fast as she could, still counting. The last thing she remembered was counting two hundred and ninety seven…

Christine woke up to a soft purring sound. It was evident that Porsche had managed to get off the chair and snuggle in with Christine.

"Good morning puss. Sleep well?" Porsche meowed in reply, which Christine took for a yes. She glanced over at the clock. It was 8 in the morning. "Well, let's go and get the two of us some breakfast, eh?" She scratched behind Porsche's ears as she continued to purr gently.

She put Porsche down on the floor, got dressed, then went over to the door and opened it. She went into the kitchen. Erik didn't appear to be up yet. Not wanting to disturb him, she got Porsche some milk, and then pondered over what to get for herself. Not really knowing Erik's kitchen that well, she just watched Porsche lap up her milk.

Half an hour had passed. Christine's stomach was really starting to annoy her now, and it left her no choice but to go and wake Erik from his slumber. She walked down the corridor to his room, knocked twice, but got no answer and so she knocked again.

_He must be a really heavy sleeper._ She thought to herself. Opening the door, she went inside.

"Erik?" She said. "Erik… are you awake?" There was a grunt from the bed, which Christine took for a yes. She thought it was very unusual. It was usually Erik that was awake first, cooking breakfast by the time she was up and moving.

"What time is it?" He asked, he sounded exhausted.

"It's half past eight." Answered Christine. At this, Erik sat up.

"Oh damn, sorry, I didn't realise the time…" He got up, he was obviously either too tired or in too much of a rush to notice that he was nearly naked in front of Christine. She couldn't help but admire how well built he was. She had always imagined him to be very slim.

"I'll go and, umm… wait in the kitchen shall I?" She asked, trying not to blush or make it seem as though she would rather stay.

"Yes, if you want." He said, pulling on his black shirt. Christine had only just noticed that he still had his mask on, which was a surprise. She would have thought that he would have taken it off while he slept.

"Erik, you know that you don't have to wear that mask in front of me don't you?" She said, Erik paused for a moment, opened his mouth, closed it again, then opened it.

"I'm just, used to wearing it now." His voice was very sullen as he spoke. "And I'm sure that it would be better for me to wear it in front of you."

"I would rather see the real you than a mask." She walked over to him, reaching a hand out to the right side of his face; she had just begun to pull the mask away from his face when there was an ear-splitting scream. Erik looked up at once.

"Oh no." He said quietly, and then he bolted out of the door as quickly as possible, Christine sprinting to keep up.

"Who… Where?" She said, running behind him.

"I don't know who, but I do know where." He said. They reached an old door with a rotten frame. Christine looked very uneasily at the door.

"What's in there?" Her voice was shaking; it seemed that whatever was behind this door was going to be something terrible.

Erik sighed as he picked up a silver key from under a tile. "The Oubliette." He replied in a monotone.

"A what?" Christine had no idea what an 'Oubliette' was, but was sure that it could not be anything good.

Erik brushed away some cobwebs from the keyhole, fitted the key into the lock, then tried to turn it, with what appeared to be great difficulty.

"In short, it's a place where you put people and forget about them." He tried to turn the key again, still with no success. "But in this case, it is a place where any intruders will end up. There's a trap in every entrance down to this place which ends up here."

Christine thought for a moment, and then remembered the first time she ever came down to his lair. She had nearly fallen through a trapdoor on her way down the massive spiral staircase, and had been careful to avoid it ever since.

"So it's a prison?" She asked.

"Not so much a prison… more a sort of cage. Not many people manage to find their way down here. I think the last count of people in the Oubliette was three, two of whom were detectives, and one an accompanying officer." There was a click, and the door swung open.

It was pitch black inside the room. Erik clicked his fingers and as if by magic, torches lit up all around the room. The room seemed to be a perfect square, on the walls hung the lit torches, in the centre of the room, and taking up most of the space, was a large cage. Standing in the cage was none other than Meg Giry.

"THE PHANTOM…"

"Of the opera. Yes I know who I am thank you." Said Erik, cutting her off. He had a fire in his eyes which Christine had never seen before. It was half rage, half pity.

"CHRISTINE!" Meg ran up to the edge of the cage, as did Christine. Meg flung her arms round her best friend through the bars of the cage, tears streaking down her face.

"I don't remember inviting you down here young Giry." Said Erik plainly. Christine was quite sure that it was only because of her friendship with Meg that she wasn't already dead yet.

"Christine…" Said Meg, very quietly. "What are you… why are you with…" She made a very weak gesture towards Erik.

"I'll explain in a minute. Just hang on." She let go of Meg. "Erik…" She said turning towards him. "Could you be so kind as to let her out?"

"I could indeed." Erik replied. "I'll be speaking to your mother about this Meg." He walked over to the nearest torch, pulled it down, and the cage began to sink into the floor. Two skeletons which had been leaning against the side of the cage fell, and Meg gave a small squeak.

"My…" She sniffed. "My mother?"

"Your mother knows about Erik." Said Christine, wrapping her arms around Meg again.

"And I hope that you can see now why she didn't tell you." Cut in Erik, gesturing to the hole in the ceiling, which Meg must have fallen through. "It's a miracle you're still in one piece."

Meg didn't say anything; she was in shock at everything, her mother, Christine, The Phantom of the Opera… It all seemed too much.

"You're bleeding…" Christine pointed at Meg's leg.

"It's not bad."

"Come on. Let's get out of this room and get you cleaned up." Christine was very surprised to hear Erik speak those words.

With a little help from Christine and Erik, Meg managed to get to the kitchen and sit down. Erik handed Christine a damp cloth.

"I'll leave you to do this. I had best go and find Antoinette." He got up and walked over to the door. "And for future reference, there is a quicker way than the stairs to get down here. It is easier to show than tell, but I dare say you won't be leaving right this minute." This last piece of information startled Christine. Erik noticed this. "I added the finishing touches to it just before you came down." He said to her, and with that, he left.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do." Said Meg and Christine, at the same time. They often said the same thing at the same time without meaning to. They both laughed, Meg a little nervously, as if trying to bury the emotions that she was currently feeling.

Porsche moved over to the two of them. "I always knew there was something about that cat!" Christine smiled.

"Her name's Porsche." She said. "And in case you didn't know, that was Erik, also known as 'The Phantom of the Opera.'"


	16. Stories To Tell

Chapter 16 – Stories to tell.

"So, he is not a ghost? He is real?" Meg asked.

"Yes, Erik is real. You saw him didn't you?" She replied jokingly.

"But what are you doing with him? He is a murderer."

"That can be explained, but that is not the main concern right now." Christine paused for a moment, looking at her friend. "You found a way down here?"

Meg suddenly looked very worried.

How do I explain how I found the passage? Christine will surely go crazy if she knows I was snooping in her room. How do I go about telling her? What can I say?

"Meg?" Christine asked noticing she was thinking.

"I… I, err, I'm not actually sure how. I know it sounds stupid but I can't actually remember." She tried to sound convincing.

Christine opened her mouth but Meg blurted out a question before she had a chance to say what she was going to.

"So what is going on between you and The Phantom? I mean Erik."

Christine smiled. "Do you remember that time, when you came to find me, after a dance rehearsal and you heard me singing? You asked who my tutor was. Well it's Erik."

"So it was him all along. Not an 'Angel of Music' your father sent?"

Christine nodded. "If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have taken the lead in the past two productions."

"How did you end up meeting… well seeing him?" Meg asked her friend curiously.

Christine looked down at Porsche who was sat listening to them, eyes watching intently.

"It was actually thanks to Porsche. I ended up walking down dark passageways and a spiral staircase, and then finally down here." She said, looking up and round, her eyes exploring the cage and the surroundings.

"What happened?"

Well, I heard music playing. I followed Porsche as she got out of the boat and she led me to Erik, who was playing on the piano…"

-

Erik had left the two friends while he went up to find Antoinette. He was furious that little Giry had managed to find her way to his lair, and especially into the oubliette. That was another thing he had hoped to spare Christine, but he had failed in that too.

He hadn't really meant to leave her there as Antoinette, strict as she was, also loved her daughter and would want to make sure she was safe. He knew however that Christine wanted to check her over and make sure she was alright and that her leg was not hurt too badly. Meg had intruded. He needed to guarantee her silence, as he knew she was a gossip and so didn't intend to let her leave very soon.

He then remembered what Daroga had said: '_I couldn't use the mirror because Antoinette's child was skulking around Christine's room.'_

She had been prying through Christine's personal belongings, and had managed to find the secret entrance; this thought made him very angry, especially as he had asked Antoinette to have a word with her daughter. He could feel his anger rise.

No, there is no point in having a shouting match with Antoinette, as it will cause problems, and I will surely have to back down.

Erik had learnt not to ever start a fight with Madame Giry. She would always come out on top and was one of those people who never backed down, and was usually right.

Ok, explain the situation calmly, even though I doubt she will overreact.

He looked into her office from the doorway. There was no sign of Madame Giry in there.

He headed to the main hall, where she might be teaching the ballet classes. Again there was no sign of her. He looked carefully, but no, he couldn't see her, just a few of the ballet rats talking.

He grunted. Where could she be? He went to the dining room. Again there was no sign of her there. He went to the dormitories for the younger ballet dancers, nothing.

I don't usually have this much trouble finding her. Where could she be? I've looked almost everywhere. Where haven't I looked that she could be? Ah! The manager's office, but why would she be there?

He swished his cape round and marched briskly to where the manager's office was.

He approached the entrance where he heard three voices; yes, Madame Giry was definitely here.

"Why do you always defend the Phantom? I think Miss Daae has been given enough limelight, why not let Carlotta have a chance." Asked Firmin.

"I do not want anymore accidents like Monsieur Bouquet. But I have not come here to discuss this. I wanted to know if you have seen my daughter. I cannot find her anywhere and no one else has seen her." She sounded very worried.

"No Madame we have seen neither her nor Miss Daae. Maybe they have gone out somewhere." Andre said, trying to sound calm.

"Meg would never leave the Opera house without telling me."

"M... Maybe the Ghost took her." Firmin said, a little worried.

Madame Giry seemed cross at the mention of this. "And for what reason would he take my daughter? It hasn't happened before."

"See, there you go again, defending him."

"No Messieurs, I just think it is an absurd suggestion. I must prepare for this afternoon's class. If you see her will you inform me at once?"

"Yes, of course we will Madame."

"Merci." She gave a small nod and headed out of the door.

Erik headed off after her; she walked in the direction of her office.

She shut the door and turned round to find herself face to face with Erik.

"Madame Giry." Erik said simply.

"Erik, have you seen Meg anywhere? I know Christine is with you, but I can't find her anywhere. I have asked everyone and looked everywhere and I still cannot find her. Please tell me if you have seen her?" She said quickly, she was clearly worried.

"Please Antoinette, calm down. Yes, I have seen Meg. She is in my lair along with Christine." He said calmly.

"What? How? Why is she in your lair?"

"Meg was in Christine's room. She obviously found the secret passage that leads to my lair. She fell through one of the trap doors and you know where that leads."

"The Oubliette?"

"Yes. She is safe. But I cannot allow her to leave because…" Erik started.

"Erik in gods name why not?" She cut in.

"Because she was looking through Christine's belongings and I'm not sure whether she will keep silent about what she has seen." He snapped back angrily. "I thought you said you would talk with her."

"Yes Erik, I have. But I cannot watch her all the time." She answered back. "Please Erik, is she hurt?"

"She cut her leg when she fell, but Christine and I tended to her. I left them in the kitchen. I thought it would be best to fetch you."

"But I need to prepare for…"

"See to it later." He replied, gesturing Madame Giry towards the passageway.

"And by the way, what were you and the managers discussing before you brought up the subject of why you were really there?"

"Oh the new production of Faust, Piangi and Carlotta will not take part if Christine is given the lead this time. The managers want them to stay as they fear it will be impossible to replace them should they leave." Antoinette told him casually.

"I agree with them for Piangi, but Carlotta they can do without." Erik replied, hissing when speaking about Carlotta.

"Yes but it is not that simple with those two."

"I know, they come as a package. If one of them doesn't perform then neither will the other." Erik said sarcastically. "Oh and why do they think you defend me all the time?"

"Because I always remind them to abide by your rules. I think they have suspicions about me Erik. I'm not sure what they suspect, but soon it will come out."

"I won't let them do anything to you, Antoinette. I promise." He smiled.

"I know you wouldn't, but my dear, you don't have to always look out for me." She smiled back at him.

"It doesn't matter what you say. You saved my life all those years ago. I am indebted to you."

"I take it you've told Christine about that part of your life?" She questioned.

"I told her about when my mother first bought me my mask, and when they took me away." He shuddered at the word 'they'.

"I see. How did she take it?" She placed a hand on his arm.

"Well, she responded in a way I didn't believe would happen, but it did something to me, made me feel something different…"

-

"…And that's when we heard you scream." Christine finished.

She had just told Meg most things that had happened previously between her and Erik. However she had not told her anything that Erik had told Christine about his past. She did not think it would be right.

"So where does my mother fit into all of this?" Meg asked.

"I don't know what happened between them. All I know is that they have known each other for a long time. She wouldn't give me a straight answer when I asked her."

"How do you suppose they met?"

"Meg, I have really no idea, I guess Erik has gone to fetch you mother."

"Christine?" Meg paused. "Do you love him?"

This startled Christine, she hadn't actually thought about it. But now the question was there she began to wonder what she truly felt for Erik.

"I have also seen the way he looks at you." She continued, but Christine was too buried in her own thoughts. She hardly noticed that Meg had said anything.

Love him? I don't know what I feel. I do care for him I suppose but I haven't known him long enough to actually love him.

"…Christine?" Meg interrupted.

"I haven't known him long enough, I don't think, Megand why did you ask me?"

"I've seen the way you look when you talk about him. You have this dreamy look." Meg started giggling.

Christine started to turn a very deep shade of pink. "I do not." She replied.

Still giggling Meg pointed. "Then how come you have gone very rosy?"

"I haven't. Have I?"

"Yes, you have."

They both laughed. It had been a while since Christine had had a good old laugh with Meg. She had been preoccupied with everything that had happened.

"So you found a passageway. Where did it start from? There are several." Christine questioned Meg.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that when I was walking down this spiralstaircase I fell down and landed in this shoot, slid down for a while and fell in that cage. I screamed as I fell into it." She said, shuddering.

"I asked where did it start from." Christine said impatiently.

"I don't know. I said before."

"But that is a lie, young Giry." Erik stood in the doorway of the kitchen with Madame Giry.

"MOTHER!" Meg cried and ran towards Madame Giry who grasped her daughter in a tight embrace.

"Meg, what if something bad happened to you?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Erik, what did you mean by 'that is a lie'?" Christine asked curiously.

Erik looked towards Meg who was now free of her mothers embrace; she was looking very awkwardly at Christine.

"I believe you have something to tell Christine. Don't you little Giry?" Erik said softly.

"Well?" Christine said. Meg just looked at the floor.

"Meg please just tell me?" She asked.

"I found the entrance in your room." Meg replied weakly.

"You mean… You were snooping around my room?"

"Yes, I knew something wasn't right. You had disappeared so often. I had to find out. I'm really, really sorry Christine."

Christine was slightly cross at the fact Meg had been through her personal belongings but couldn't help but let these feelings go as Meg was now crying silently.

"Oh Meg, look, its ok, I promise you. But just don't do it again."

The two embraced each other and all was forgotten.

Erik stepped towards Meg and placed both hands on her shoulders. She winced, thinking he was going to harm her.

"Do not fear me Meg. I beg you not to be afraid. Now, as you have found out about me, my home and the fact that Christine is my student. I want you to make Christine, your mother and me a promise. A promise to never ever tell anyone about what you have seen here. It will be your secret, just you and Christine will know. I hope you will forgive this but I know you tend to let your mouth run away with you quite a bit." Meg looked away sheepishly. "Please, I'm not telling you. I'm asking."

"Would you kill me if I did?" She asked.

"I pray it will never come to that." He said softly.

He lifted her chin so she was looking directly into his bright blue eyes.

"Yes, I promise."

Erik smiled and patted her head.

"May I come down here again sometime?" Meg asked.

"Meg!" Antoinette exclaimed.

Erik chuckled. "It's perfectly alright Antoinette. Yes you may. You are very welcome to come sometime soon. However I would appreciate it if you would make these visits very rare, as I do not want to cause any suspicion. You understand?"

"Yes of course, thank you all the same."

Antoinette was very taken back by Erik's way of making sure she would keep silent. She half expected him to threaten Meg. Instead he had asked her in a very grown up manner, almost as if he was her father.

"So may I know how you and my mother know each other?" Meg inquired.

"It's a long story but is best kept until later." Erik replied.

"We must be going now anyway. I'm late for my ballet class." Madame Giry said.

"Antoinette you had best run back, if you don't wish to give your ballet rats something else to talk about." Erik remarked sarcastically.

Antoinette glared at Erik. "It will be hard for me to get back quickly as it is hard enough for me to walk back up those stairs let alone run!" She replied in a half joking manner.

"I have a solution to that." Erik said triumphantly.

"My dear Erik you never cease to amaze me with your solutions to everything." Antoinette replied.

"Come then this way. I must take you both back across the lake."

"Are you not coming with us Christine?" Meg asked.

"No, I wish to stay here a little longer, but I will return soon." She replied.

With that she hugged her best friend and Meg and her mother together with Erik headed out of the door.

Christine sighed and sat down to find she was sitting on something soft and slightly lumpy.

She heard a yelp and a loud meow behind her. She had nearly squashed Porsche by sitting on her.

"Oh Porsche, I'm really sorry. I didn't see you there." With that Christine picked up the cat, sat down and then placed her on her lap. Porsche had obviously forgotten about nearly being flattened as she had curled up in Christine's lap and resumed her snooze.

Christine began to subconsciously stroke the cat. And thought about what Meg had asked her before. Did she love Erik? And did he love her?

I find the more time I spend with him the more I feel for him? But could Meg be right am I in love with him? But I don't know what he feels for me? Should I ask him? But he has got to be a lot older than me. It possibly wouldn't be right, and besides I haven't known him that long, but he really is good looking. I don't care about the scar on his face. He is remarkable, and his music so wonderful. I don't think I have known anyone quite like him.

Her thoughts were cut short by Erik's return.

"That was fast!" She stated.

He smiled at her, and noticed the cat. "Still sleeping huh?"

"Yes, she seems to be." Christine giggled.

"Porsche." He said softly to the cat. Porsche at once was awake. Erik cocked his head to one side, and Porsche immediately jumped out of Christine's lap and plodded out of the door.

"She really does understand you, doesn't she?" Christine asked.

"She is trained almost like a dog." He chuckled. He sat down across the table from her.

"So, do you think Meg will keep her promise? What would you do if she doesn't?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." He said half sighing.

"That cage…?" Christine began.

I was really hoping you would not ask anymore about it. But I guess it was inevitable.

"The Oubliette?" He corrected her.

"Did you make it?"

"Yes I did. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, I was just curious."

"Shall we move to the library? You like reading don't you?" He changed the subject.

"Yes, I love to read and you have such a large selection. Where did you get them all from?"

"Oh, Antoinette has collected them for me over the years." He said as he and Christine both stood up and headed towards the library.

"My father used to read to me when I was a child, every night, before I would go to bed, he would read me a story or part of one until I had fallen asleep." She smiled.

_Should I ask him now?_

"Erik, I need to ask you something seriously, and please I want you to tell me the truth, no matter what it is." She asked timidly

Erik looked rather worried by this.

What could she possibly want to ask me? It must be rather serious, but I will tell her the truth.

"Do you promise me?"

"My dear Christine, I will tell you the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I promise you." He replied, worry laced in his voice.

"Do you love me?"


	17. Until The Fat Lady Screams

Chapter 17- Until The Fat Lady Screams.

Erik was completely silent. Of all the questions he had expected Christine to ask him, he had not been expecting that one. He couldn't answer her. He just couldn't... What if she didn't have feelings for him, and that her asking of the question was simply a way of confirming her suspicions.

"Erik?" Christine said softly. Erik looked down at the floor, trying to think of an answer.

"_Just tell her, she asked you a question so why don't you just tell her?" _Said a little voice in the back of Erik's mind.

"_Because if I tell her then it could ruin the 'relationship' that we have already." _Erik Argued back, but that was not enough to satisfy the voice.

"_Are you frightened?" _The voice was positively shouting at him now.

"Yes..." Said Erik out loud, then he suddenly realised what he had said, he had both given an answer to the voice, and an answer to Christine's question.

"_Now that's more like it!" _Cried the voice triumphantly, Christine however, had an expression on her face that was completely unreadable. Erik simply continued to look at Christine, trying to work out what was going on in her mind, to look past her eyes into her mind.

There was a very long silence. Erik was now trying to decide whether it would be best to get up and leave her alone. However something was rooting him to the spot where he stood. Then, without warning, Christine ran up to Erik and flung her arms around him.

"I love you too..." She whispered in his ear.

Erik put his arms around Christine. He felt as though his heart was beginning to melt. For a long time they just stood there, holding each other.

"_That'll teach you for accusing me of being frightened!"_ Erik thought.

After what had seemed like a lifetime, they let go of each other, gazing into each others eyes. Erik had the strong urge to lean forward and kiss Christine, but thought better of it. He would go at Christine's pace, not his.

"I'd better get back..." Said Christine, looking straight into Erik's piercing blue eyes. "If Meg was suspicious of where I was, then others may be as well."

"I understand." Replied Erik.

Christine and Erik made their way back to the boat, hand in hand. A short trip across the lake and down a passage they stood at the bottom of the great spiral staircase. Christine had just remembered something.

"What's this amazing short-cut that you have invented?" She asked, looking up at Erik.

"It's just over here." He said, leading her away from the foot of the staircase.

They were standing on what seemed to be a very sturdy wooden platform, which was attached to several lengths of very thick strong rope. The platform was about two metres square.

"Hold on tight..."

"To what?" Asked Christine.

"Good Point..." He pulled Christine close to him and kicked a metal mechanism.

At once they started rocketing upwards. Christine actually had to close her eyes to stop herself from being sick. Eventually the platform shuddered to a halt. She opened her eyes, to see Erik smiling at her.

"If you thought that was fun you should try going down on it." He said, his voice very mischievous.

"Well..." Said Christine very quietly. "It's certainly a lot faster than the stairs..." Erik gave a small chuckle at this.

"Ummm, can we get off of here now?" Asked Erik, for Christine had been clinging to him as though the world was about to explode.

"Oh...yes." They got off the platform. Erik clicked his fingers and the passageway down to the mirror was illuminated by the arm-held torches. They walked down the passageway to the mirror, and Erik opened it. "When can I see you again?"

"Soon I expect, after all, the production of Faust is fast approaching and you will have to be trained up for that."

"OK, I'll see you soon then Erik." And with that, she gave him a swift kiss on the cheek, and stepped into her room.

Erik closed the mirror, but he did not leave immediately. He stood and gazed at Christine. Eventually however, she left, and Erik, seeing that the clock on her mantle piece showed it was 6 o'clock, turned and headed back down to his lair.

-

"If you do not learn to point those toes properly before we start the next production then so help me!" Madame Giry had been teaching her lesson for just under an hour now. She was still so angry with Meg that she seemed to be criticising everybody. "OK girls, that is enough."

The ballet girls sighed with relief. Meg was still looking rather pale, though that could have been due to the 'short-cut' of Erik's rather than Erik himself.

"It's almost time for dinner." Said Madame Giry in a very strangled voice, the short-cut had obviously shaken her a bit too. "You better go and get changed Meg."

"Yes mother..." She turned and headed to the dressing room. Madame Giry started to make her way towards the dining room. She was about half way there, when a voice called out to her.

"Madame Giry!" It was Christine. She too seemed to be very pale.

"Did Erik give you a ride on his amazing invention?" Asked Madame Giry, a grin crossing her face.

Christine didn't answer, but instead started to walk with Madame Giry down to the dining room. They were silent for a couple of minutes, until Christine spoke.

"I hope you weren't too hard on Meg. Were you?"

Madame Giry Smiled, then said, in a would-be casual tone. "It wasn't so much Meg, more the whole of my class."

Christine laughed. They entered the dining room and discovered that they were the first two there, closely followed by Meg, who immediately sat down next to Christine.

"So, how are you and lover boy getting on?" Christine blushed about seven different shades of red and then remembered that Meg didn't know what had happened after she left.

"Very well thanks." Replied Christine, starting to tuck into her dinner.

"Well?"

"I think so. I mean, I don't feel ill or anything." Meg rolled her eyes at Christine's sarcasm and then started to tuck into her dinner as well.

"Ooo gow wut I mern!" Said Meg as best she could, through a mouthful of mashed potato.

"Uhhhh, pardon?"

"Meg Giry! Don't speak with your mouth full!" Boomed Madame Giry from the opposite side of the table. Meg blushed a very deep shade of crimson.

Meg swallowed with what appeared to be great difficulty, "Sorry Mother." She replied. She turned back to Christine. "I said, you know what I mean."

"Yes of course I do." Said Christine, very slyly.

"So...?" Pressed Meg

"So what?" Christine could now see that Meg was getting very annoyed with her, which she was quite pleased about.

"Oh that's it. I give up." Meg then concentrated on her food.

The rest of dinner was quite uneventful. It was only at the very end when the two managers entered the room. This was quite unusual, if they were going to dine in the Opera House, then they would have been with them from the start of dinner. There was total silence.

"We have a few announcements to make. the first of which is one which I would rather not need to say." Began Firmin. "Due to the recent death of Joseph Bouquet, we have decided that we must impress on all of you to take extreme caution whenever..."

Christine did not hear the rest of Firmin's words. She was angry at the thought of Bouquet, yet angry at the thought of Erik killing him as well.

"...and never wander around the Opera House alone whenever possible." There was a long silence, followed by a lot of worried muttering.

"Next!" Began André, raising a hand for silence. "It is our great pleasure to announce that the next production that we will be putting on will be..." There was a long pause, during which both André and Firmin seemed to admire the tension in the air. Christine however already had a good idea what it was, and was not surprised when she heard André boom out the word. "... FAUST!"

This had the intended effect on most of them. There was a lot of excited muttering, followed by a loud round of applause for the two managers. Christine tried the best she could to look as though this piece of information was nothing new to her. One person however was not happy.

"And I suppose that little Miss Christine Daae will be taking the lead yet again, WILL SHE?" Carlotta's screech of a voice rang out from the far end of the table.

Firmin started to massage his neck. "Ummmm...well, we haven't decided on the...the cast list yet." He stammered. Piangi now looked ready to kill, yet left the talking to Carlotta.

"IF YOU ARE GOING TO LET THAT BLOODY PHANTOM DICTATE THIS PRODUCTION AS WELL, THEN I AM OUT OF HERE!" She shouted to the whole room, brandishing her fan.

"Well, I'm sure that you could..." Began André, but he stopped mid sentence. He could have sworn that he just saw the eyes of a portrait move, and looking back at it, he saw two very angry blue eyes, which quite clearly said.

_If you even think of giving that toad the main female role, it will be your head in the noose._

"Ah ha I see!" She said in a very cunning tone. "You try to get me to stay long enough so that my dear Piangi will be the leading male. Well let me tell you, we are not going to stand for this like we did for Il Muto! Are we Piangi?"

Piangi looked startled at being brought into the conversation. "No absolutely not."

"SO!" She screamed at the managers. "You can take your production of Faust, and go ahead an shove it right up your..."

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Bellowed Madame Giry. "If you do not want to take part in this production because you have to much of a craving for the limelight, then perhaps your place is not here, and Piangi..." Piangi looked over at Madame Giry. "Good luck at finding somewhere else to perform. I am sure you will do very well."

These last few words startled Piangi. He was expecting them to beg him to stay even if Carlotta had to go. He gave them a swift nod.

"Right," Said Firmin. "You heard the lady. If you're not happy with the casting, which, I might add, hasn't been decided yet, then you can leave." Christine thought that this was rather brave of Firmin, who she had always imagined to be very naïve when it came to dealing with Carlotta.

Carlotta had a look of deep disgust on her face, then got up abruptly, grabbed Piangi, and they both stormed out of the dining room together. A loud cheer from the rest of the room helped to send them on their way.

"What are we going to do now?" Said André in a very worried voice. "No leading male, oh well, at least that bloody woman is gone, you win some and you lose some I suppose..." His voice trailed off sadly.

"Don't worry, messieurs. I will begin auditioning for a new leading male immediately. Who knows? We may even find someone that is better than Piangi."

André looked as though he seriously doubted this, but did not think much more on the subject.

Firmin turned to Madame Giry. "Thank you Antoinette, that would be much appreciated." He turned to the rest of the people in the room. "Well, we will have scripts for all of you in due course. In the meantime, get well rested for the rehearsals."

With that, he and André turned and left the dining room and headed towards their office. The excited murmurs started up again. Everybody was talking about the same thing. Who was going to replace Piangi?

"Carlotta is gone. Oh I could sing!" Cried out Meg. Everybody in the room murmured their agreement.

"Go ahead." Said Christine. "It must be better than hers. Mind you, anybody can sing better than that toad!"

"Here's to Christine." Said Madame Giry suddenly, raising her glass. "The official Prima Donna."

Erik, who had been standing in a concealed passageway behind a portrait, couldn't help but give a very wide smile. It was a good feeling to know that the toad had finally left the Opera Populaire, hopefully never to return, though he knew that he couldn't count on that.

"Come on Christine, let's go for a walk." Said Meg, rising from her chair.

"Where to?" She asked.

"Oh... I don't know, to the roof I guess." With that, they left the dining room.

They walked past the manager's office on their way to the roof. Christine couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but it sounded like they were discussing the cast list for Faust. Eventually, they reached the roof, Meg breathed in the cool night air, and they both went and sat down near the edge of the roof.

"Hey, look over there!" Said Christine, pointing to some figure across the street from the Populaire.

"Is that Carlotta?" Asked Meg, though she didn't really need an answer to know that it was indeed the Toad and Piangi.

"What do you think your Mother is going to do about a replacement for Piangi?"

"Oh I don't know, I suppose she will just hold a load of auditions, or just pick some random person up off the streets and force him to sing." They both looked at each other, and started to laugh.

"Kind of like... kind of like the way she forces you to dance eh Meg?" Said Christine, trying to catch her breath.

They sat there laughing for what seemed like a lifetime. Meg had laughed so much, that she had actually fallen backwards onto her back. This made her laugh even harder than she had been before. Eventually the two friends calmed down enough to begin a conversation again.

"Right." Said Meg. "Now you are going to tell me about what's going on between you and Erik."

"Am I?" Said Christine. "When did I say that I was going to do that?"

Meg looked at Christine, trying to decide the best way to get her friend to tell her about this. After a few minutes of deep concentration, she finally said…

"Oh fine, don't tell me. I just thought that if you were a friend then you would..." Her would-be sorrowful voice wasn't enough to convince Christine at all. In fact, they just looked at each other and began to laugh again.

Erik watched the two as they continued to laugh, tears streaming down their faces from laughing so hard. He just wished that Meg would leave so that he could talk to Christine on his own. When he at last realised that she was not going to leave, he walked up behind them, catching a bit of their conversation.

"You're in lurrrrrrrve with Erik! Christine has a crush for the Phantom." She said in an annoying sing song tone.

Erik couldn't help smiling, then he walked up besides Meg and silently sat down next to her. Christine had obviously seen him. Meg however had not seen him.

"You want to hug him..."

"Uh... Meg." Said Christine, jerking her head towards Erik, Meg wasn't paying attention.

"And kiss him."

"Meg." She said, even louder, jerking her head towards Erik again.

"And have s..."

"MEG!" She positively shouted at her.

"What?" Asked Meg, looking very confused. Christine pointed towards Erik. Meg looked round. "OH JESUS!"

"No, I'm Erik." He said with a cheeky grin.

Meg looked very apologetically at Erik, who seemed to understand. That didn't stop her however.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He said. "After all, I don't have my Punjab lasso with me at the moment. Do I?" Meg gave a very nervous laugh. "Could I have a word with you please Christine?"

"Ummm, sure." She replied. "I'll be back in a minute." She said to Meg.

"I'm going to bed. So take as long as you want." She gave Christine a small wink. Christine nudged her in the ribs.

"I'll see you in the morning." And with that, Meg crossed over to the door, went through it, and made her way to the dormitories.

Erik got to his feet and then helped Christine get to her feet. They stood there in silence for a few moments.

"I just wanted to say congratulations. I mean, with Carlotta gone you are the official Prima Donna. I thought that was a very noble toast of Antoinette's." He gave Christine a warm smile. Then his expression changed to one of worry. "You didn't tell..."

"No." She said, before he could finish. "She's just trying to taunt me. Chances are she will go into a right state if she knows."

"Oh well, I was just checking because...well." He looked down at the floor. "I'm not sure I want... well... anybody to know just yet." To Christine's surprise, Erik blushed.

Christine couldn't help but wrap her arms around Erik, who immediately wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her silk-like hair… For a long time they just embraced each other. She eventually pulled away from him and stared into his blue eyes, feeling as though she could drown in them. Then, not sure why she did it, she leaned in and kissed him.

This took Erik by surprise completely. He had never been kissed before. It was a strange feeling. It seemed to last for a lifetime. Neither one of them seemed to want to pull away, until a distant noise brought both of them back the their senses.

"I must go." Said Christine. "I'll come and see you as soon as possible."

She left the rooftop. Erik just stood there in a complete state of shock. He put his gloved hand up to his lips and traced them with a single finger, replaying the last few minutes of his life. He had just kissed Christine. Something he had wanted to do since... oh it didn't matter when. All that mattered to him now was that he was in love with Christine, and she was in love with him.

Erik made his way back down to his lair in a very dreamy state, which he was jogged out of briefly thanks to a different short-cut that he had installed in another entrance to his lair.

He went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea, trying to clear his mind, but now that he thought about it, did he really want to clear his mind, did he want to forget the softness of Christine's rosy lips, or the taste for that matter. He licked his lips, trying to relive what had just happened.

Eventually he managed to bring himself back to his senses enough to drink his cup of tea. He stared at the dregs at the bottom of the cup, still thinking about Christine. It seemed that he could at last be happy, after a lifetime of wickedness.

He made his way to the bedroom, got undressed, then tried to sleep, but he couldn't. There was no way that all of these thoughts that were currently going round in his head were going to let him do anything as simple as 'sleep.'

Porsche came in through the half open bedroom door, sensing that Erik was distressed about something. She leapt up onto the bed, and Erik started absent-mindedly stroking her.

"Go and check on Christine." He said quietly to the cat. "I'll be OK." With that, Porsche jumped off the bed and headed out of the door.

Porsche found it surprisingly easy work to get across the vast lake. The trick was to walk along the narrow ledges that were at the side. Porsche hesitated for a while however when she got to the spiral staircase, she had seen Erik operate the mechanism before, but she was a little nervous of doing it herself. Eventually she managed to kick the mechanism into gear, and she started rocketing towards the top of the staircase. Her fur was standing on end when the platform finally came to a halt. It took her a few moments to recover before she started trotting along the passage towards the mirror.

-

Christine was lying down on her bed, thinking. She had managed to kiss Erik. She couldn't believe it, even though she wanted to. She licked her lips, as though trying to tell if Erik's had been there a short while ago. There was a sudden click from the other side of her room, followed by a loud 'meow'.

"Hello Porsche." She said, as the cat jumped up onto the bed beside her. She started to tickle her behind the ears, making her purr softly. "You should be making sure that Erik is OK, not here with me." The cat gave a soft meow. "Why do I get the feeling that he would say the same thing about me?"

She smiled to herself, and then tried, without success, to sleep. Tomorrow would see a new day dawn on the Opera House. The day that it was finally rid of La Carlotta and Piangi. The last thought that she had before she finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep, was of Erik, holding her close to him, running his fingers through her hair.


	18. Two Voices Lost, Another Found

Chapter 18 – Two Voices Lost, Another Found

Porsche stayed with Christine through the night, watching over her as Erik had asked her to. Christine was now tossing and moaning in her sleep. Porsche got off the bed and ran back to get her master, leaving Christine still dreaming.

"_Christine, I want us to be together forever, just you and me." Erik told her._

_They were both in the middle of the stage just looking at each other hand in hand, no one else about._

_Christine smiled, gazing into his blue eyes. "I know you do and I want the same. I love you Erik."_

_They leaned forward and kissed passionately. A voice that hit them caused them to pull apart._

"_Oh how romantic." It was Carlotta looking at them, fire in her eyes. She appeared from the side entrance. _

_Erik stood in front of Christine and scowled at Carlotta. "What do you want?" _

"_I want my limelight back! It is because of you that I lost everything, you the Phantom of the Opera and your lover, little Miss perfect Daae." She hissed in rage._

"_Well you will never have it back! Christine is the leading Soprano now, and no matter how much you beg or sob, no one will have you back. Christine has charm and appeal, where as you have none. You are nothing." He shouted back at her._

"_I AM SOMETHING!" She screamed. "If you do not get me back my audiences then I will just have to go to the authorities and get you locked up for a long time. After all you are a murderer!"_

"_You wouldn't dare!" Christine stood beside Erik and reached for his hand. "If you do anything to Erik, I will make you pay, you wretched woman!"_

"_Well what does everybody else think? After what has happened. He nearly killed me and Joseph Bouquet was not as lucky. He should be locked up as he is a danger to everyone here." Carlotta said._

_Erik and Christine both turned round towards the red seats to see that everyone who was involved with the Opera Populaire was looking at them, whispering amongst each other. Even Meg and Madame Giry were there. They all then started chanting the words 'Kill him, Kill him.' Over and over._

"_You don't know him, stop it!" Christine screamed._

_They all just kept chanting and pointing at both of them, some whispering, some making exclamations._

"_But we are in love! And no one can take that away from us!" She continued._

_She turned to Erik. To see he was already looking at her. "It's no use Christine, they will never understand." _

_Carlotta now spoke and everyone else stopped. "Your precious Phantom is pulling the strings for you, so what will happen if I take him away?"_

_Christine turned and looked questioningly at Carlotta._

'_BANG'_

_Christine turned and looked at Erik, who now had his eyes wide, a red liquid oozing form his chest._

"_ERIK!" Christine screamed._

_She looked back up to find everyone had disappeared from the room even Carlotta._

_Erik fell to his knees then fell, rolling onto his back._

"_C – Christine?" He managed to splutter._

"_Erik? Don't leave me please." She knelt down beside him, sobs wracking her poor body._

"_It's too late for me now…"_

_Christine shook her head. "SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!" She screamed it rang out and echoed around the room._

_She turned back to Erik and cradled him in her arms, looking at him with tears streaming down her face._

"_Please take care of yourself Christine; I want you to know that I will always…"_

_Erik took one deep breath to finish his sentence._

"_Love you…" He finished as his eyes began to close._

"_Erik please don't!" She whispered as he let out his last breath._

_Christine looked up to the ceiling between sobs she screamed out loud enough for the world to hear. "NOOOOOOOOOOO." _

"OOOOOO." Christine bolted upright straight into the arms of Erik who was sitting on her bed. He clasped her tightly.

"Shhhhh." He soothed her gently, stroking her hair.

Christine pulled back and looked into his face, her eyes wide, then sighed and leaned back into him, resting her head on his shoulder allowing her breathing pace and heart rate to return to normal.

"Porsche came to find me. Was it a very bad dream?" He asked concerned, still stroking her hair. "You were tossing about a fair bit."

"It's alright now. It was just a dream… Just a dream." She said. Erik now began to rock her back and fourth trying to calm her as she was gripping onto him very tightly.

There was a loud knock on the door. "Miss Daae?" It was Firmin's voice.

Erik quickly slid out from her grasp and vanished just as Firmin opened the door. "Ah, good morning, I have come here to ask if you would care to help out with the auditions for a new Male Lead and an understudy to replace both Carlotta Giudicelli and Monsieur Ubaldo Piangi. They will be held 2 o'clock this afternoon in the main Theatre and we would like to have your opinion. Good day to you." And with that he left.

"How am I supposed to know which ones are good?" She said blankly.

"You just will. Go along with your instincts. I will help you if you would like?" Erik's voice replied

"I think that would be wise, and you have a better judgment than I do."

Erik chuckled. "Don't be so hard on yourself. They wouldn't have asked you otherwise."

"I suppose so. I just hope we can find someone for the productions. But do we need an understudy? It's not as if I'm going to fall ill." She sounded exasperated.

"Well just in case." Erik replied. "Well the morning is young. You had best go and have something to eat. I will speak to you later."

Christine smiled. "Hey come here."

Erik reappeared before her and she slowly slid her arms around his neck pulling his face to her until they locked lips and kissed passionately. Erik wrapped his arms round her holding her tight.

_I don't know what I would do if I lost him. I truly do love him. That dream has proven what I feel._

They let go of each other, both smiling. It was evident in both faces what they were thinking.

"I'll see you later." Erik whispered, before causing the mirror to open, disappearing into the darkness behind it and it sliding back into position.

Smiling, Christine quickly got changed, and headed down to the dining room, leaving Erik to almost float back down to his lair. He was in love, and it felt wonderful.

-

Christine entered the dining room to see the usual, people talking and a spare place for her by Meg and Madame Giry.

She came to sit down but wasn't very hungry. "Well Christine, what are you going to have today?" Meg sputtered.

Christine shrugged. "Oh I don't know. But the managers asked me if I would help out with the auditions this afternoon."

"Really?" Madame Giry inquired not sure if she had heard correctly.

"Yes, I don't know why they would like me to help. I don't know who would be good or even sound good." She sighed.

"Yes you will." Madame Giry and Meg both said at once. They all started laughing.

Christine felt a little prod on her arm and looked across to see one of the younger ballet dancers standing there looking at her nervously.

"Why hello." Christine said in a friendly manner.

"Bonjour Miss Daae." The small girl replied.

"What can I do for you?"

"No, nothing, my friends and I just wanted to say congratulations." The girl lent closer and whispered in a tiny voice. "And thank you."

"Thank you for what?"

"For getting La Carlotta to leave, we all loathed her singing. Sometimes when she was singing she would end up squeaking, and a few times she sounded like a drowned rat."

'MEOW!'

Porsche jumped up onto the table causing Madame Giry to fall backward off her chair and everyone else in the room to turn their eyes to the table where a black cat was lapping up the water in Meg's glass. The ballet mistress was on the floor looking as if she had seen a ghost. Meg helped her to her feet.

Madame Giry got up and straightened out her dress. "Alright, show's over!" She said sternly.

Everyone looked back down to his or her breakfast. Christine and the young ballet dancer were silently laughing.

"Christine, do something about that cat!" She spat.

"I'm sorry Madame. Come on then." She apologized before scooping the cat up and walking out of the dinning room.

Christine then realized there were other footsteps echoing down the hallway besides hers. She stopped and turned round to see that the young ballet dancer was still following.

"I never asked your name." Christine looked at the small girl, smiling.

"It's Zurie, Zurie Beaumont. Is that cat yours?"

"No, but I think she liked the sound of the word 'Rat'."

At this Zurie began to laugh. Christine couldn't help but laugh when she had seen Antoinette's feet go straight up in the air.

"Well Zurie, it's been nice to meet you. I'm just going to go and put her in my room."

"May I come with you? It's just I wanted to ask you something." Zurie asked timidly.

"Very well." They continued down the hallway not speaking to each other until they reached her room.

"Wow, you're lucky you get your own room. In the dormitories it's cramped and there is a girl in my ballet class called Andrea who snores." She babbled.

"Oh I know. My friend Meg Giry used to sleepwalk. She was like a ghost walking around." Christine replied.

Zurie smiled at this. "You know I would like to learn to sing someday and be as good as you. You're all the girls talk about recently. You have an amazing voice. You deserve to be the Prima Donna."

"Thank you, you know I wasn't always as good as I am now. I used to be terrible."

Zurie looked rather shocked at this. "Really? I always thought you were as good as you are."

Christine chuckled. "No, but then an old chorus girl called Cecilia helped me. She had a beautiful voice. She tutored me for several months but had to move away. So I stopped singing. She was the only person who I would sing in front of." She sighed sadly.

"But your voice is fine now. You must have a tutor surely?" Zurie inquired.

"Yes, he is my 'Angel of Music'. He awakened my soul and has been my inspiration." She whispered dreamily, her thoughts on Erik and their kiss.

"At least you have an angel to protect you from the demon."

"What demon?"

"Why the 'Phantom of the Opera', the ghost that haunts this place, everyone is afraid of him." She said wearily.

_If only they knew the truth. Erik is no demon. He is a person and I love him!_

"As long as you don't do anything bad then you have nothing to worry about." Christine told Zurie calmly.

"That's not what happened to Monsieur Bouquet." Zurie looked puzzled.

_Again, that's something else you don't know the truth about. He did deserve it, well partly._

"How old are you Zurie?"

"Twelve, why?"

"Because I have never known a twelve year old with such an inquiring mind." She chuckled.

There was quite a long pause before Zurie finally asked the question she had wanted to ask Christine in the first place.

"Will you teach me to sing?"

Christine looked startled at this sudden question. "Why do you ask?"

"I've just always wanted to be able to sing, that's all. I'm tired of just being a ballet dancer." She looked hopefully up at Christine.

"I suppose I could, if you are willing to put in a lot of effort." Christine thought that she was now beginning to feel more like Erik.

"Of course I will." She looked positively over the moon about being taught to sing by her idol, Christine Daae.

"Right then..." Said Christine as they reached her room. "How does 6 o'clock tomorrow evening in my room sound for a first lesson?"

"Yeah that would be great. I'll see you tomorrow Miss Daae."

"Yes, see you then Zurie." And with that, Christine opened her door, Porsche still clutched in her arms and Zurie headed off down the hall to the dormitories.

Christine set Porsche down on the floor, then headed over to her bed to lie down. She watched as Porsche curled into a ball, and drifted off to sleep. Christine however, stayed awake. She wondered if she should go and see Erik.

_Yes_ Was the immediate answer to that question, then she remembered that she had to go and help out with the Auditions in around thirty minutes. Feeling that the best thing to do would be to get there early, she got up, crossed over to her door, opened it and then set off to the main Theatre.

Once there, she saw that a table had been set up a few seats into where the front row of the Stalls would usually be. This was obviously where she, the two managers and whoever else was watching the Auditions would be seated. The 'hopefuls' would be up on the stage.

A few minutes later, Christine saw a note flutter down onto the stage. Walking over to it and picking it up, she saw that it was from Erik.

_Christine,_

_I can tell from here that you are nervous about this, and I must tell you that there is nothing to be nervous about. It is the people who are auditioning that should be nervous. Anyway, I thought that you would like to know that there are 40 hopefuls auditioning for the part of leading male, and if you would like to come down and see me afterwards, then please tap your feet on the stage..._

Christine tapped her feet as hard as she could on the stage, then almost instantly, another note fluttered down beside her.

_Good, I look forward to seeing you again._

_P.S. Could you please make sure that Porsche gets back as well? She looked very tired when you put her in your room..._

It took Christine a while to realize that Erik must have been watching her through the mirror. This thought however, did not seem to bother her as much as it would have done about a week ago. She smiled weakly to herself.

"Ah, Miss Daae," called Firmin's voice from across the room. Christine stuffed the letters out of sight and turned round to see the two managers and Madame Giry heading towards her. There was also a fourth person who Christine knew by sight as the new stage manager. "Glad you are here. It is almost time for the auditions." He checked his watch. "...may as well get started now."

Christine took a seat in the middle of the table. On her right sat Madame Giry, and to her right the stage manager. To her left sat Firmin and to his left André.

"Could we have the first person please?" Called the stage manager in a surprisingly calm voice which contrasted with Bouquet's tremendously.

A rather large man walked into centre stage.

"What is your name, please?" Asked Madame Giry.

"Jean Paul." He said in a very low voice.

"And what will you be singing for us?" Continued Madame Giry.

"Le Petit Negre." He replied.

"In your own time." Said Firmin.

He began to sing. If the truth be told he was not all that bad, though some of his high notes sounded a little strained. He finished the song in about 3 minutes.

"Thank you very much." Said André. "We will let you know if you have got the part when we have heard everyone."

The time dragged by. During the time between the auditions, Christine was asked her professional opinion on who had just performed.

The seventh one was terrible, though he had great stage presence. The tenth was like a male version of Carlotta. Christine had to suppress a laugh when one of the people that auditioned actually sang Frère Jacques, although he did sing it relatively well.

"Next!" Called the stage manager, sounding very tired. A slim man walked onto the stage, looking nervous, yet determined.

"Your name please." Said Madame Giry, sounding equally tired.

"Byron Larogue." He replied, a trace of nervousness just noticeable in his voice.

"And what will you be singing for us Mr Larogue?" Asked Christine.

"A short extract from Romeo and Juliet." He replied, sounding a bit more confident.

"Good, in your own time." Said Firmin.

Byron Larogue turned out to be a very gifted singer. His top notes sounded very natural, as did his low notes. He also did not seem to be putting too much vibrato in his voice. The only bit of criticism that Christine could find was that it sounded a bit over rehearsed, yet this did not make a huge difference.

He finished, looking nervously at them all.

"Excellent!" Boomed, André.

"Outstanding!" Agreed Firmin.

"Spectacular!" Added Christine. At this comment, he seemed rather pleased with himself at being given a compliment by the new leading lady.

"We will let you know as soon as the auditions are over... though I doubt that anybody will top that!" Said Madame Giry.

He left the stage. The five of them then immediately started conversing.

"He is even better than Piangi!" Said the stage manager, sounding much more enthusiastic than he had been before Larogue had performed.

"Indeed." Agreed André. "Well we had better listen to the rest, just in case they are better..." He trailed off, sounding very doubtful.

They soon learned however, that he was indeed the best. As soon as the last five people had performed, the stage manager summoned the rest of them back out onto the stage.

Christine got to her feet. "Well, it has been a very long audition..." She began. "And after hearing all of you sing, we have finally come to a decision..." There was a short silence, during which Christine sensed the tension in the air. "It is my great pleasure therefore, to congratulate our new leading man..." She paused again. "... Byron Larogue!"

There was some polite applause. Larogue, however just stood there stunned, lost for words. The 39 other hopefuls left the stage. The five judges got up onto the stage and each congratulated Larogue.

When all was said and done, Madame Giry went up to Christine. "Thank you for helping." She began. "And now I'm sure you will want to get some sleep. It has been a very tiring afternoon's work."

Christine simply nodded, then headed off back to her room, remembering that she was shortly going to be seeing Erik.


	19. And So It Begins

Chapter 19- And So It Begins

It was nearly 5 o'clock when Christine finally got back to her room. She had had to sit through 40 different auditions before finally finding a replacement for Piangi, Byron Larogue. She was not as tired as she thought she would be. Anybody who had just had to endure what she had would surely be ready to drop dead.

When she entered her room, she immediately saw that Porsche had somehow mustered up the energy to move from the floor to Christine's bed.

"_Lazy thing",_ said Erik's voice in the back of her head. Christine smiled to herself.

"Come on Porsche, it's time to go…" She said, scooping up the cat in her arms. Porsche gave a weak 'meow' in protest, but did not seem to have enough energy to do anything about it.

Christine locked the door, and then headed over to the mirror. She stepped down on the middle tile as hard as she could, and watched as the mirror sank down into the floor. She stepped through into the dark passageway and then used the mechanism that made the mirror go back into its normal place.

_How did Erik make the torches light up?_ She thought to herself, and then she remembered that he simply clicked his fingers. Christine, who had never actually clicked her fingers before, gave it a try, Porsche still clutched in her arms.

It took her a few minutes, during which she got very agitated when she couldn't manage it, to successfully click her fingers. When she managed it however, the arm-held torches along the walls, burst into flame. She walked along the now well-lit passage, and then reached the spiral staircase.

She paused for a minute. She was very nervous about using Erik's amazing shortcut, worried that she might fall off. Looking at it closely however, she saw that Erik had added railings round the outside, obviously to hold onto while using it.

She got onto the platform, made sure that Porsche was secure in her arms, and kicked at the metal mechanism. The platform instantly started plummeting to the depths of the catacombs beneath the Opera. She held on as hard as she could to the metal railings, until eventually the platform came to a halt.

Porsche seemed to have been woken up by this, because when Christine got off the platform, the cat jumped right out of her arms and started trotting along the passage to the boat.

A calm boat ride later, and Christine and Porsche were standing in the dock like area of Erik's home.

_I wonder where he is…_ She thought to herself. Then however, she heard singing coming from one of the rooms, which she assumed would be the music room.

…**What raging fire shall flood the soul?**

**What rich desire unlocks its door?**

**What sweet seduction lies…**

**Before us?**

This, thought Christine, must be a song from his 'Don Juan Triumphant'. Entering the music room, she saw Erik sitting at the piano, scratching away at a piece of music on the stand.

He did not seem to have noticed Christine enter the room, but then Porsche chose that moment to go and leap onto his lap and start kneading his stomach. Turning round, he saw Christine and gave a big smile. Putting Porsche down on the floor and standing up, he barely had time to move before Christine had flung her arms around him. They then kissed passionately.

A few minutes later, during which Porsche seemed to be getting very annoyed at the lack of attention she was receiving, they broke apart, looking at each other.

"I love you Christine." whispered Erik.

"I love you to Erik." She whispered back. Finally letting go of each other, Christine glanced over at the piano, then remembered that Erik had been singing. "What was that song you were singing?" She asked.

"Oh, it's erm… it's nothing important really…" He stammered, gathering up the pieces of parchment, and placing them into a large leather folder.

"Was it some of your 'Don Juan'?" She asked, Erik could tell that she was not going to give up.

"Yes." He replied, then feeling that it would be best to follow up. "It's a song near the end of the opera, called 'Point of no Return'." Christine looked a bit puzzled at this.

"Why is it called that?"

"I'll tell you when the whole thing is finished." He said, plainly. Christine then remembered something that Erik had been saying, when she had heard him composing what sounded like the very same song.

"_No, that makes it sound like he is going to hang her." And "That makes it sound like they are playing the Bassoon". _Christine smiled to herself without realising it. Erik however, did.

"What's so funny?" He asked her.

"I'm guessing it's not a song about two people playing the Bassoon is it?" Erik took a while to work out what she meant, then, realising what it was, he blushed a very deep shade of crimson. Something that, Christine assumed, he did not do very often.

"Or about one person hanging another…" He said, more to himself than to Christine.

Christine burst out laughing. She collapsed into Erik's arms. He couldn't help himself. He started to laugh too. For a long time they just stood there, Christine holding onto Erik for support, as her legs seemed ready to give way any second. She actually laughed so hard, that she developed the hiccups, which caused Erik to laugh even harder for a moment.

"… oh dear." He said with a smile.

"hic what?" Asked Christine.

"You're going to have to stop that. You've got a singing lesson later." Christine looked at him for a moment.

"But the hic managers haven't given us the hic, scripts yet." She said.

"I'm no manager." He replied. "Though I must say that I think that I would do a better job than them, don't you?" Christine simply hiccupped in response. "Anyway, I'll have to go and whip you up a cure for hiccups."

"No…no, I think they've passed…hic" Erik gave a small smile at this.

"You're not getting out of this, come on." He took Christine by the hand and led her to the kitchen.

It took him about three minutes to finish making his 'cure' for her. He set a goblet down on the table, which had some foul smelling liquid in it, and looked at Christine.

"Ummm, really I think they've hic…" Resigned to the worst, she picked up the Goblet and downed the contents in one. It tasted surprisingly better than it smelled. Christine waited for a moment, looked up at Erik, and then gave a very small belch.

Erik chuckled. "That means that it has worked I think." And sure enough, there was not another hiccup that escaped from Christine's mouth.

Christine felt surprisingly refreshed after she had drank the 'cure', and also wide-awake.

"Right, lesson time I think." He said, briskly. Christine got to her feet, took Erik's hand and followed him to the music room. Christine remembered something.

"A little girl called Zurie asked me to give her singing lessons…" She said faintly, Erik turned and looked at her at this.

"Well, are you going to?" He asked her.

"Well, I said I would… but I'm not really sure how." She sounded a bit worried by this.

"Well, start with breathing techniques and warm-up exercises." He began. "Then move onto songs. Always start a lesson with ten minutes warm-up as well, like we do." Erik then sat down at the piano. "We will do that now as a matter of fact, pick a scale."

"Ummm…" She felt up to quite a high scale. "B minor."

They did warm-ups for ten minutes as always, then Erik pulled out a script from behind the stand on the piano. Reading the front, Christine saw the word 'FAUST'.

"Where did you get that?" Christine asked.

"The library, I have most operas in there somewhere." He replied, handing the script to her. "Page 70."

Christine turned to page seventy and read 'Margarita's Ballad of the King of Thule.'

It took her perhaps, fifteen minutes before she really grasped the tune of the song. They practised a verse at a time. Erik told her that this was one of her two main songs of the opera.

"Right, you seem to have grasped that one pretty quickly. We just about have time to look at your second song I think, page 135."

This song was called 'Meine Ruh ist hin'. It was much more complex than the ballad. Yet by the end of the lesson, she was quite pleased by her progress with it.

"Very good." Said Erik. "Faust may just be the best production this place has ever seen. Especially with that toad gone." Christine gave a small laugh at this.

"Did you watch the auditions?" She asked him.

"Indeed I did. I must say that I really didn't think that anybody was going to be better than Piangi. Well, not in that lot anyway." He looked over at Christine. "You had best be getting back."

"Can't I stay here tonight?" She asked.

"I would not have thought that you wanted to..."

"I need you close by. Just in case I have another bad dream." She said, blushing slightly.

"OK, I'll go and prepare your room then, shall I?" He asked.

"Ummm actually..." She said, shuffling her feet and looking down at the floor. "I was wondering if... if well, I could uh..." She paused and then said very slowly and quietly, so that Erik nearly had to lip read her next four words. "... stay with you tonight?"

This was definitely not what Erik had been expecting, but he finally managed to stammer. "Umm, yes of...of course, I mean that is... if you're sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. I just need you there with me, so that I know I'm not going to lose you." She said, looking solemn.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said, rising to his feet and taking Christine in his arms. "I promise you."

"But what if..." The rest of her sentence was silenced by Erik's lips being pressed against hers.

When they broke apart Erik said. "Trust me Christine, I'm not going to leave you..." They kissed again, and Christine eventually cheered up. "Come on, let's get some dinner."

They went back to the kitchen, where Erik cooked one of his amazing dinners for both of them. Christine nearly had to wrestle Porsche away from her food, which the cat seemed to have caught the scent of pretty quickly.

"Greedy lazy cat." Said Erik, tickling her chin. "What am I going to do with you, eh?" He poured Porsche out a bowl of milk and then returned to his dinner.

"Well it looks like you got her a bowl of milk." Said Christine slyly, this earned her a scowl.

"Who says I was talking to the cat?" Said Erik, Christine tried to scowl at him, which she thought must have looked like a puppy-dog pout.

The rest of the evening was quite uneventful. After dinner Christine went to the library, and found out that Erik had not been lying when he said it contained just about every Opera. While Christine was in the Library, Erik went to the armoury. He thought it would be best to keep his blade skills sharp, just in-case Christine wanted a rematch.

When Christine was tired of reading, and Erik was simply tired, they went to bed. Erik was very nervous yet couldn't understand why. They weren't exactly going to do anything. Christine just wanted him to hold her and yet still he was nervous.

-

Morning came and Christine was the first to wake, held by Erik. Looking at him, she saw that he was still wearing his mask. Thinking that this could be in no way comfortable, she gently removed it from his face and then put it on the table next to the bed. Erik started muttering something in his sleep.

_Awww bless him._ Thought Christine. Erik then started muttering something about timpani and percussion. It seemed that his subconscious mind was always on music. Christine heard a noise outside the room. Thinking that it was Porsche, she tried to go back to sleep, but then she heard someone cry.

"OUCH!" Christine jumped out of bed, got dressed and then bolted to the door. Opening it very slowly, she looked outside and saw...

"Meg!" Meg, who was jumping up and down clutching her foot, looked over at Christine.

"Ah, there you are." She winced in pain. "You've got to come back now, Managers...reading...cast."

"Oh damn! One moment." She went back into Erik's room and nudged him awake.

"Urrrgghh?" He grunted.

"I've got to go. Cast list is being read out." She gave him a quick kiss, then headed back to the boat with Meg.

"I'll tell you what..." Began Meg. "This new leading male is **very** good looking, don't you think."

Christine, who had been thinking about Erik, looked up at her. "Huh, what? Oh yes, I suppose so."

"Daydreaming about lover boy eh?" She then changed to her sing song voice. "You lurrrve him, you lurrrve him!"

The wild ride on the platform shut Meg up at once. Christine clicked her fingers to make the torches light up.

"That's a nice trick." Said Meg who was still in a very shocked state from the lift ride.

As soon as they were back in Christine's room and the mirror was closed,they bolted to the main theatre, getting there just in time.

"OK, as you all know, our new production is Faust, so if you would all listen carefully. The cast list goes as follows." Began Firmin.

"How much do you know about Faust, Christine?" Whispered Meg.

"Not that much, it's about a man who sells his soul to the devil just so that he can be with his true love." Christine whispered back.

"Well that's more than I knew."

"The role of Faust will be played by Monsieur Byron Larogue." Meg turned very red at hearing his name.

"Somebody has a crush on the new lead male." Said Christine jokily, then, imitating Meg she began to sing. "You lurrrve him, you lurrrve him!" This earned her a painful jab in the ribs.

"The role of Margarita will be played by Miss Christine Daae." Said André.

"No surprises there then." Shouted Meg to Christine over all of the applause.

"And finally, the role of Mephistopheles will be played by Arnaud Fortesque." There was another polite applause, Arnaud was bested only by Piangi when he was around. Therefore it was clear why he was given the part.

The rest of the cast list was read out, including the dancers and Margarita's mother, who happened to be Meg.

"YES! WHOO HOO! I'm not a dancer, and Carlotta isn't in this production!" Meg was positively over the moon with her part.

After the casting Christine went to get an early lunch. She did not have time to have any breakfast and that was now fast catching up with her.

-

She had as much as she could eat, everyone had congratulated her on the leading part of Faust and had given a warm welcome to the new recruit who was to take Piangi's place. She had noticed during lunch that Meg was glancing over at him every chance she had, and apparently had the same look that Christine had when she was thinking about Erik.

She slipped away from the lunch room and headed back to her own room, where she found Zurie waiting for her.

"Zurie?" Christine looked surprised. "What are you doing in here?"

"I'm sorry Christine, I just came to check that we are still ok for the singing lesson at six this evening?"

"Yes of course we are. See you then."

"Alright, oh and congratulations." Zurie whispered.

"What part did you get Zurie?"

"Me oh, I'm just another dancer." She sounded downhearted.

"I'm sure one day you will get to have a huge part, keep trying. Oh and thank you." Christine replied.

Zurie nodded and headed out of the door. Christine stood in her room, thinking.

_She reminds me of myself sometimes. But if she is determined, then I will help her, like Cecilia helped me._

There was a knock at the door, tearing her thoughts away from Cecilia. "Come in." Christine called.

The door opened to reveal Byron Larogue standing in her doorway with a bottle of champagne and a small bunch of flowers. Indeed he looked handsome, with his hair slicked back, similar to Erik's style, but off to the side. It was a light brown colour which matched his eyes perfectly.

"Miss Daae?" Larogue inquired, Christine could tell he was nervous at seeing her. "I – I bought these for you."

He handed Christine the bunch of flowers which she took and sniffed.

"Oh, wow, what lovely tulips. Thank you Monsieur Larogue, what a kind gesture." She said smiling. She went to put the purple flowers into a vase. "I will have to find them some water soon."

"Thank you, I'm glad you like them. I have not had the chance to talk to you properly, as we are going to be working together mainly I thought it would be best for us to get to know each other." He said a bit more calmly than before.

"Yes, I believe we should be acquainted at least. So you have settled in rather well?" Christine inquired.

"Yes everyone has been telling me great things about the Opera Populaire and also of the Phantom of the Opera…" He trailed off.

"Take no notice of what the girls tell you. They always make up things." She replied.

_He has only been here five minutes and already they are taunting him with stories of Erik. They don't even know the truth._

"I will take your word for it. Would you care for champagne?"

"Why yes that would be nice."

Byron poured out two glasses and handed one to Christine.

"By the way, I think you have a fantastic voice. Have you had any sort of training?" She said, taking a sip from the glass.

"Yes, but have never really been able to use my voice. The auditions have given me this wonderful opportunity and I get to do something that I have dreamed about for years and I'm able to meet the famous Miss Daae." He said enthusiastically.

Christine giggled slightly. "Thank you Monsieur."

"Please, please call me Byron." He said quickly.

"Then you may call me Christine." They both chuckled slightly.

Byron raised his glass. "I propose a toast, to the start of a new friendship and to the success of future productions." He lowered his voice. "I have also been told of the infamous La Carlotta and Monsieur Piangi."

"Now that is something you can believe." Christine raised her glass. "I have a feeling we are going to get along just fine."

"I do too." Byron finished. "To friendship?"

"To friendship!" Christine said softly before draining the remains of the champagne.


	20. Christine's New Student

Chapter 20 – Christine's new student.

Christine and Larogue had quite a pleasant chat. They talked a lot about singing and music. She was even tempted to tell him about Meg's crush on him, but thought better of it as it would earn her a jab in the ribs, and they did hurt at times.

It was half past five; Zurie was due to arrive in half an hour and Christine paced her room, wondering what song she would ask Zurie to sing.

Ah, I've got it. That beautiful song Cecilia taught me to sing. I'll never forget it. Maybe I could teach her that if she doesn't know it. Why am I nervous? Just do what Erik said, 10 minutes of warm ups, scales and then the song.

The song ran through her head and she began to sing it out loud:

**Black is the colour of my true love's hair**

**Her lips are like a rose so fair**

**She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hands**

**I love the ground where on she stands…**

**I love my love and well she knows**

I love the ground whereon she goes  
I wish the day it soon would come…

"When she and I could be as one…" Came a voice from behind her.

Christine spun round to see Zurie there looking at her. That last line of the song she had sung was really good, in Christine's opinion. But as she had only heard that little piece of the song she could not judge just yet.

"You know the song?" Christine asked.

"Yes, my father taught it to me. He couldn't sing it very well but it was my mother's favorite. I didn't think you knew it. No one else that I know does."

"The chorus girl Cecilia taught me the song. I'm glad you know it because I was going to ask if you would sing it for me after the warm-ups."

Zurie looked slightly uneasy with the request. Christine noticed this.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, I just…" She began.

"No, it's alright. It's just that the song reminds me of my mother. It was her favourite song. She died five years ago, and I haven't sung it since." Zurie whispered sadly.

"I am sorry, I know what it is like to lose a mother. And a father." Christine said sympathetically.

"I haven't lost my father. He remarried and so I live with him and my stepmother when I'm not here." She continued. "But I will sing it. I miss the song."

"Well you are slightly early, but that means we have more time. First we shall start with some warm ups."

"Very well, what would you like me to do?" Zurie asked, cheering up a little.

"Well let's see, I will sing and then you repeat back to me in the same scale, alright?"

Zurie nodded in agreement.

"But firstly, to be able to sing, you need to have the right posture. At the moment you are slightly slouched. You need to straighten your back." Zurie stood up straight and made herself as tall as possible. "Also lift you chin slightly." Christine tilted Zurie's chin upwards.

"Hmm, you're very tense. Relax a little and give yourself room to breathe comfortably." Zurie did as Christine instructed.

"Right repeat after me, oo oo oo ah ah ah oo" She sang going up and down one scale, the first ah being the top and then going back down the scale.

Zurie repeated this, she sounded natural but on top of that nervous, as there was a lot of vibrato in her voice.

"Very good, let's try it again. Only this time please try not to feel nervous. I know you are singing on your own, but you need not be. I will help you improve. Try it again on this scale." Christine asked softly.

Christine sang the same on a different scale and Zurie repeated. She sounded a lot better this time. Christine asked her to sing the same on different scales after her and she did, and each time she improved. After ten minutes or so, she stopped.

"See, you're getting better each time." Christine told Zurie, smiling. "You have quite a natural singing voice, so that's a plus side for you."

"Thank you." Zurie replied. She seemed a lot more confident than when she had first started. "My grandmother used to be a singer, so I suppose I owe it all to her."

Christine chuckled. "Right, are you up to singing 'Black is the Colour'?"

"Yes, but can I ask that you sing it with me?"

"I would prefer to hear you on your own first, but only if you feel up to it?" Christine asked.

"Please may I sing it with you, I don't really want to do it on my own." Zurie replied sadly.

"Ok, how about two lines each? Sound fair?"

"Yes I think so."

"I will start first." Christine coughed to clear her throat, opened her mouth and began to sing.

Black is the colour, of my true love's hair 

**Her lips are like, a rose so fair.**

Zurie continued the song… singing to the tune that Christine had just sung.

**She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hands.**

**I love the ground where on she stands.**

Christine looked at her student and gave her a nod. That was better than before. She was just about to open her mouth to sing, when Zurie put her hand up to stop her, and indicated that she would sing the rest.

I want to sing this on my own for Christine. And for my mother too.

**I love my love and well she knows  
I love the ground where on she goes  
And how I wish the day would come  
When she and I can be as one**

**I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep  
Satisfied I'll never sleep  
I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines  
And suffer death ten thousand times**

Christine was amazed. Zurie had sung the song with such passion and understanding. It had created a peaceful atmosphere. Zurie's eyes were shut and tears were seeping through her eyelids and rolling down her cheeks. She started to sing again and she heard Christine's voice along with hers.

**Black is the colour of my true love's hair**

**Her lips are like a rose so fair**

**She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hands**

**I love the ground where on she stands…**

They both finished the song on a held note. Zurie opened her eyes; they were now red from silently crying.

"Brava Brava!" Christine cried. "Zurie that was fantastic. You are incredibly advanced for a beginner." She went over to her drawers and handed Zurie a tissue.

This compliment cheered Zurie up. "Really? Thank you, was it alright? I'm sorry I got upset. The song just reminds me so much of my mother and I really miss her." She said while dabbing her eyes dry.

"But you sang it with such passion, that's what made it sound so good." Christine told her excitedly.

"I did it for you and my mother." She replied.

"Well I think we will leave it there for now. Next week we will work on some breathing techniques. I just wanted to hear you sing, and most impressive you have been."

"Alright, so this time next week?"

"Yes, I will explain to Madame Giry where you will be."

Zurie giggled. "It was rather difficult to get away from class."

"Well I will see you around then, goodbye Zurie."

"Miss Daae, thank you for this." Zurie said before wrapping her arms round Christine in a friendly embrace.

"You're very welcome." She said softly.

With that, Zurie let go and headed out of the door. Christine sighed. She was very impressed by the way that Zurie had sung that song with such passion and empathy.

"The child has some real potential, doesn't she?" Erik's voice said from behind the mirror.

"I had a feeling that you would be watching." Christine turned to the mirror smiling.

The mirror slid into the ground revealing the man Christine loved standing behind it. She walked up to him and embraced him. Erik hugged her back.

"See, I told you your first lesson would be fine." He told her softly.

"Yes but only thanks to your advice." She stated.

"Well you are as good a teacher as you were a pupil. I think Zurie will go far with you to guide her." He said lightly.

"You mean as I did with you?" She said teasingly.

"Oh yes." Erik kissed her lightly on the forehead. "She is quite a fan of yours."

Christine chuckled. "Yes I know, but she is not too keen on you."

"Not many of the ballet Rats are. You didn't believe in me at one point."

"I know but now I do." Christine whispered, kissing him on the lips. He responded and kissed her back.

_I must be the luckiest person alive._ He thought dreamily.

They pulled away but he felt a strong urge to kiss her again; he wanted her to be his in every way. It would all happen eventually. After all she did love him.

"Shouldn't you be learning your lines and songs for Faust?" He asked.

"Erik, I'm very…" Christine opened her mouth wide and gave a long yawn. "Tired."

"Then my dear you should rest." With that, Erik picked her up in his arms. She was as light as a feather. He carried her over to her bed and laid her down gently.

He turned to leave but he felt her hand grab his gloved one and pull him back towards her.

"Please Erik, stay with me." She said sleepily.

"As you wish." He whispered. He walked over to her door and silently turned the key so that her door was locked.

He lay down beside her and she rested her head on his chest. Erik gently reached up and stroked her hair, feeling her gently breathing beside him. Being together like this made the urge to go further more powerful.

I must stop thinking this. I should not but I can't help feeling like this. I really want her, but I have her in all other ways so why do I feel this way?

"Erik, please sing 'Music of the Night' for me." Christine requested.

Erik sat up slightly, and then began to sing. Christine wanted desperately to stay awake and listen to the song, but there was something about the way Erik sang it that was very hypnotic and it was causing her to sleep.

Help me make the music of the night… 

He looked down at Christine. She had fallen asleep. He smiled and kissed her forehead. She had her arms wrapped around his stomach, her head on his chest and one of her legs over his.

Erik also felt very tired. _Some sleep may do me good. Also it means I get to spend longer with my Angel._

Erik shut his eyes. His breathing became in rhythm with Christine's and he began to drift off to sleep.

-

Christine woke up the next morning to find that Erik had gone. She looked to see the time, it read 7.00. The corner of her eye caught a glimpse of a note sealed with a red wax skull. She reached out for it and opened the letter.

My Dear Christine.

I'm sorry I had to leave you, but I have many things to attend to as do you today. I wish you luck in your rehearsals. If you would care for help on the songs then please come to see me later on in the evening.

_Until then have a good day._

_With all my Love - Erik._

Christine smiled and put the letter in its envelope and put it in her side drawer.

She went to get dressed and headed down for her usual breakfast, only to find that sitting on the table next to Meg was Larogue. They were laughing and talking. Christine smiled. They seemed to be getting along rather well. At least this would keep Meg off the subject of Erik.

"Ah Miss Daae." Byron exclaimed. "I'm sorry. Have I taken your seat?"

"No, no please stay, I will grab another seat." Christine said.

She pulled up a chair, but noticed that it was rather quiet.

"Where are the younger ballet dancers?" She asked Meg.

"Oh, mother made them get up earlier this morning, as the dancing is very difficult, she is suddenly being very hard on them, and I don't know why." Meg said concerned.

"Could it be something to do with the Opera Ghost?" Byron asked.

Christine and Meg didn't know what to answer to this question. "Possibly." Meg said, Christine shot her a warning look.

"But maybe it's the managers." Christine said uneasily. "You know now that Carlotta is gone, they might be putting pressure on everyone to get this right. Also, it is a difficult piece to perform."

Byron just nodded with a sort of puzzled look.

"Excuse me for just a second while I go to the gents." He walked off leaving the two friends.

"What did you go and say that for?" Christine spat.

"Well he asked. Besides, I had to try and make it seem normal." She whispered back.

"He has had enough tales from the other girls. I don't expect it from you as well, at least you know Erik is not a bad man." Christine hissed angrily.

"Look I'm sorry. I just said it's possible, nothing more. I know you love him, but you are over reacting about the things people say." Meg shot back.

"Maybe, but I don't want him to think bad things about him."

"So you are then?" Meg said lightly. Christine looked puzzled. "In love with Erik."

"Well why do you think I came out of his bedroom when you came to find me yesterday morning." Christine realized she had said too much.

"Di – Did you sleep with him?" Meg asked alarmed.

"No!" Christine hissed. "I've only just realized I'm in love with him. I want to take it slowly."

"So that mean you _will_ sleep with him."

"Look I don't know. Stop asking me these questions."

"Christine you know he is old enough to be your father!"

"Age does not matter. I love him and that is that." She said angrily.

Great, I was hoping that sort of conversation wouldn't come up. I know he is old enough to be my father. But I can't help whom I fall in love with.

"But anyway, what about you and Monsieur Larogue?" Christine changed the subject.

Meg went a deep crimson at the question. "Christine he is so handsome. I was so shocked when he came and asked to sit next to me it was like that saying, umm…"

"Love at first sight." Christine finished for her.

"Yes, and don't you think he is so handsome, and apparently according to mother he is a brilliant singer, and also did you know that…"

Christine switched off. Meg was going to babble on for ages about him. It did occasionally get irritating when she went on and on and on.

Here we go again. I will be here for the next 5 months, but I'm glad our conversations 'hopefully' won't go Erik's direction. I just have to put up with Meg going 'yap yap yap'

Christine was not aware of it, but with every little fact Meg was telling her, she responded by saying 'yeah' or 'uhuh' or nodding.

"…So that's what we were discussing just before you came to breakfast... and you aren't listening are you?" She finished quickly.

"Uh?" Christine replied stupidly.

"See, I knew you were not listening." Meg pouted.

Luckily, before Meg could go on about this, Byron returned. "I think we should make our way to the main theatre, so that we can practice."

"Yes, very good idea." Christine agreed quickly.

_My hero!_ She thought. As all three walked in the direction of the main theatre.

-

"Christine!" A voice called out as she entered the room with the other two.

"Hello Zurie." Christine replied to the twelve year old who was walking towards her.

"Zurie Beaumont!" Called Madame Giry.

Zurie froze on the spot. She swallowed hard before turning round and walking back to her place.

Christine smiled. As she watched the ballet dancers get into position.

"Clarissa, point those toes! Andrea legs straight, and Zurie, less looking at Miss Daae and more concentrating!" Came a string of commands from the ballet Mistress.

Zurie went red, but continued with the dancing.

And to think I used to have to deal with that.

"Christine!" Meg called.

"Coming." Christine called back, but first she had to speak with Madame Giry about Zurie's singing lessons.

"Alright, take a 10 minute break." Madame Giry told her class.

Christine approached Madame Giry. She could sense that she was incredibly tense.

"Madame? Are you alright?" Christine asked sympathetically.

"Yes yes I'm fine, shouldn't you be practicing?" Antoinette asked.

"Yes but I need to explain something to you."

"It's about Mademoiselle Beaumont, isn't it?" She asked.

Christine looked surprised. _How does she know? Erik? Yes it must be, and the fact that Zurie wasn't at evening rehearsals._

"Is it alright if she comes to see me every Thursday evening?" Christine asked.

"Yes, that is fine, her skills as a ballerina are always above the rest, so yes, it is fine. I must say I'm impressed. First a student, then a lead soprano then a teacher." Madame Giry smiled.

"Well most of it is down to Erik." She replied.

"He has guided you, but it was you who chose to teach young Zurie."

"I suppose so. She is very talented, even though she has had no proper training."

"Hmm, I see Meg has taken a liking to Monsieur Larogue."

Christine couldn't help but giggle slightly. She turned to see them again, laughing like crazy, it was obvious they had just clicked.

"Yes, it would appear so, but Madame he is very handsome. But my heart belongs to Erik." She trailed off dreamily.

"Yes, Meg told me about that. He has loved you for a very long time you know."

"I know, and now we are together. It would almost be impossible for us to be separated. I'm in love Madame."

"It appears that Meg and Byron want you to go and start practicing with them." Madame Giry pointed out.

Christine headed off toward the two to begin her proper rehearsals for Faust. Unaware that a pair of blue eyes and yellow eyes were silently watching from box five.


	21. Stories in the Night

Chapter 21 – Stories in the Night.

Christine's rehearsal with Meg and Byron went reasonably well. They had been through the scenes involving Byron, Meg and herself. All the way through the rehearsals Byron and Meg seemed to be getting closer, laughing and talking. Christine had a suspicion they would end up feeling something for each other. She wanted Meg to be happy, as she was her best friend and she deserved happiness.

She had remembered Erik's invitation to come and see him for music practice; however she did not feel like singing as she had already rehearsed but it would probably be best to do some practice. Faust was a difficult piece indeed, and Christine knew somehow that Erik really wanted her to excel in this one. Faust was an important piece and very well known in the opera world. She knew that this was her chance to shine.

She returned to her room and looked hesitantly at the mirror, wondering if she wanted to go down for a singing lesson. Still, she wanted to see Erik and so she would have to be back in time for supper.

She decided not to go down Erik's shortcut because of the bad experience she had the last time she went down on it. Even with the new railings there she did not feel entirely safe.After deciding this, she opened up the mirror and walked down the gloomy pathway.

"Porsche...?" Christine could just about see two lamp like eyes in the darkness of the passageway. The rest of the cat could hardly been seen as she was shrouded by the surroundings. Christine could just make out the movements of the cat. She had started plodding down the dark passage.

Christine clicked her fingers, but the candles in the passageway did not light up as they had done previously. She tried again a few times but it didn't work. She tried a few times more and it still did not work.

_It worked before. Why does it not now? Oh, this means I will have to walk in the dark._

From a distance she heard a faint 'meow' from Porsche and so she followed the sound. She placed her hands against the cold brick wall to guide her in the blackness because her eyes were not adjusting but she could hear a lot better and so she just followed her ears.

She continued walking down the passageways, following the sound of the loud 'Meows' that echoed from in front of her. It seemed to take forever to walk to where the boat should be. As she neared the end of the passageway she saw light glimmering in front of her. She began to quicken her pace almost to a jog, unaware of the wet floor beneath her feet. One foot slipped out from underneath her and she fell to the ground, landing on her hip.

"Aargh!" She cried in pain. Her ankle hurt as well as her hip, it was agony.

_If only the lamps had ignited!_

She tried to get up, but she was in too much pain to put any weight on her ankle. "OW!" she breathed in through clenched teeth making a hissing noise.

_It hurts too much! I can't get up! _She thought despairingly.

She looked ahead of her to see that Porsche had gone. Sighing, she sat still massaging her ankle, which was still causing her a considerable amount of pain.

-

Erik was in the library muttering to himself about what Christine would practice on.

"She was good in rehearsals but she needs to show more compassion as Margarita. Hmmm, we rehearsed two of the main songs but I suppose we could go over them again."

Porsche jumped into his lap, meowing like crazy and cutting his musings short. "Porsche, what is it? Where is Christine?"

The cat leaped out off his lap and lifted her front paw indicating the door. Erik looked puzzled. "She is outside?" This question seemed to enrage the cat slightly, for she rose up on her hind legs like a meerkat for a brief second before trotting out of the door, her meow's growing louder and louder.

The colour drained from his face, as he feared what the cat was trying to tell him…

_Dead? Or Injured? Curse it! I should have gone to collect her myself!_

He sprinted for the boat in the lake and began rowing frantically. Porsche plodded around the ledges at the side.

He got to the other side. Still fearing for Christine, he leaped out of the boat and followed Porsche and almost immediately he saw Christine lying in the dark, pale and still. She had passed out from the cold and the pain. Erik checked her breathing. She was fine but she needed examining properly. He scooped her up gently and headed back towards the boat.

He placed her in the swan bed and pulled the duvet over her, trying to keep her warm. Some of the colour had returned to her face but he would leave her until she awoke. Porsche was curled up beside Christine watching her with affection. Erik reached for the door when he heard Christine mumble.

"E – Erik?"

Erik rushed over to her. "Yes, Christine I'm here. I'm here!"

Her eyes fluttered open to meet his sparkling blue eyes which were filled with worry.

"My, ankle." She breathed in sharply. "It hurts."

Erik took a look at her ankle, and gently began moving it from side to side. It was a slight purple colour from bruising and he pressed down to feel the bone.

"Ahhh!" Christine moaned. "Erik!"

"I'm sorry, Christine, I'm sorry... Does it hurt if I move it?"

"No." She whispered tearfully, pain laced in her voice. "Just if I put pressure on it."

"Well it is not broken. You have merely sprained it. It's a good thing that you are not a dancer."

"I suppose so." She replied, a little more normally.

"Wait here, I will go and fetch a damp cloth. The cold should help ease the swelling. Hopefully by morning it will be a lot better but you should not try to walk." He said calmly.

With a swish of his cape he was out of the door. Christine laid her head down trying to get comfortable but not move around too much for her ankle hurt still. Erik strode back in with a damp cloth and some bandages. He sat down on the end of the bed, gently pulling her ankle to rest on his lap.

"This is going to be cold." He warned, as he wrapped the damp cloth around her ankle. It was freezing but it did the trick. It did feel soothing. Erik held it in place while he wrapped the bandages around it, securing it in place. "There we go. Now is there anywhere else that hurts?"

Christine went red. Her left hip still hurt where it had hit the cold stone floor.

Do I want him to look? It's embarrassing but it hurts as much as my ankle did. Maybe it would be best for him to look at it.

"My hip." She replied. "I fell on my left side when I fell over."

Erik swallowed hard. "Do you want me to take a look or would you rather I didn't?"

"It's alright. I would rather get it checked out." She replied sheepishly.

"Then, please roll over onto your right side." He said slowly.

Christine did as he asked and rolled over.

Erik took the bottom of her skirt and pulled it slowly up towards her hip. Her legs were so slender, young and soft. He savoured the sight as it reminded him how lucky he was.

Christine had closed her eyes, loving the way his fingers glided so softly. She giggled. "Erik, that tickles!"

Erik smiled as he lifted her dress off her thigh but it faded when he saw the huge purple and green bruise. He pressed on it lightly; again Christine made a hissing sound through clenched teeth.

"This is simply bruised. It should disappear within a day or two." He stated, before pulling the dress back down to cover her leg.

"So what exactly happened? Why didn't you light the torches?"

"I tried to click my fingers and it didn't work, so I followed the cat down the passage way, and slipped as I was running towards the light." She took in a breath. "And I passed out after I realized that Porsche had gone."

"You must not have clicked loud enough. This is my fault; I should have come to collect you. My dear Christine I am so sorry." He said softly.

"It's alright." She replied stroking his cheek gently. "Don't blame yourself."

"You will have to stay off your feet for a few hours. You should be better by morning."

"But I have to go to dinner. If I keep disappearing, people will start to say something." Christine replied, slightly worried.

"Do not worry. I will write a letter to Antoinette explaining your absence from supper. It just means you will have to stay here tonight." He smiled at her.

Christine couldn't help but feel slightly glad about staying with Erik. She smiled back in response. He started to get up.

"Erik, will you lie down with me? Please, I do not wish to be alone." She almost pleaded.

"As you wish, but will you promise me that you will not leave your bed?" He asked.

She nodded. Erik lay down beside her and took her hand in his and gave it a slight comforting squeeze.

"This reminds me of the time when I was about 6 years old. I came down with influenza. I was so scared of being left alone that I asked my father to come and stay with me. He stayed and he would read to me and play his violin. He never left my side until I had fallen asleep." Christine sighed with a smile.

Erik propped himself up on his elbow. "Tell me about your father." He asked softly. "You know about me and part of my childhood but I have realized how little I know about you in your younger days."

Christine looked at him. His eyes told her that he wanted to know what her father was like. He had no fond memories of his parents and he had only known his mother for 8 years until she had betrayed him and sold him to the circus. Maybe it would be a good thing for him to know what her childhood had been like.

She looked up at the ceiling not really knowing where to begin, but she started anyway.

"Well, I only really knew my father, as my mother died when I was born. I was born in Sweden in a little village. My father was a great violinist who played for all sorts of people. I was looked after by a nanny when my father was away. He used to take me for picnics. He would always spend as much time as he could with me but he had to earn a living, and he did that by playing for famous people or in concerts." She took a breath.

"We were happy for many years but he became ill and so we had to leave Sweden and come to Paris where he could be treated. I was around seven years old at the time. His illness continued to get worse no matter what treatment was given to him. Eventually he became so bad that the doctors had to have him put into isolation. I was only allowed to visit him once a week and so I would go in on a Sunday. I would read to him, tell him stories and about events that had happened in the week." Christine paused trying desperately to fight the tears, retelling memories of her childhood was painful for her as she had been so close to her father.

"He was asleep mostly. I never knew if he could hear me or not but I spoke to him anyway. Then about eight weeks before he died, he introduced me to a great friend of his, who he had met when performing in an opera house once. It was Antoinette Giry." Christine paused for a bit and continued with difficulty.

"I remember, before I entered the room where I first met Antoinette, the conversation they had between them. They didn't know I had heard anything but it will stick in my mind for as long as I live…"

-

_Christine was 7 years of age. She had come to visit her father. But as she approached the door, she heard two voices, one belonging to her father and the other belonging to a woman."_

"_Antoinette. Thank you for coming to see me. There is something very important that I must ask you." Gustav whispered hoarsely._

"_Is it any news from the doctor?" The woman who Gustav had identified as Antoinette asked._

"_No, there is no other news from the doctor but I know I do not have much longer left on earth, and that is why I have asked you to come." He coughed quietly. "To ask, that when the time comes, will you look after Christine for me?"_

_There was a slight almost silent gasp. "You mean become her legal guardian?"_

"_Yes, there is no one else who I trust, and I know she will be in good hands. You have a daughter the same age don't you?"_

"_Yes I do. I'm sure young Christine would be company for little Megan. But yes, of course I will take care of her. She can come to live with me and Meg at the Opera Populaire."_

"_I would be so very grateful. I can no longer take care of her and she will need someone like you to be there for her as she grows. Are you sure it will be alright?"_

"_Yes, of course I'm sure; you have been a great friend to me Gustav. It will be my pleasure to look after Christine."_

"_She should be arriving anytime soon. I will explain the situation to her."_

"_Yes, alright, would you like me to stay?"_

"_Yes, then Christine can at least meet you."_

_Christine decided that this would be the right time to enter the room and join them. Antoinette seemed like a nice lady. She did not allow the knowledge that her father would not live much longer to show on her face or affect her body language in any way._

-

"So that's when I met Antoinette. Even though I already knew what was going on. They didn't know that I knew." Christine continued.

"I was later on introduced to Meg and we became friends. About a week before my father died he told me he would send me the angel of music and for years I believed that I heard him before going to sleep and I now realize that it was you. If I hadn't found the passageway, I would probably still believe that there was a real angel of music." Christine finished.

Erik looked away. "I was eventually going to tell you. I didn't really know how you would react if you knew that your angel of music was indeed the Phantom of the Opera, about whom you have heard so many horrendous stories." He said sadly.

"I didn't really think there was a ghost. I never really believed it." Christine said.

"Not even when the backdrop fell and there could be no rational explanation for it?" Erik asked.

"I just assumed that it had not been tied properly." Her face lifted slightly. "I wouldn't really have cared if Carlotta had suffered an accident."

Erik smiled. But it faded quickly. "I couldn't help but notice that you were struggling to tell me about your father. Maybe I shouldn't have asked."

"It was only fair that you knew as much about me and my life growing up as I know about yours, but of course your childhood was worse than mine. It is understandable that you didn't want to tell me everything. I can only imagine what it was like for you." She whispered.

Erik leant forward to meet her lips and enveloped her in a passionate embrace. "Why are you so understanding?" He smiled before wrapping his arms around her tightly. Christine rested her head on his shoulder.

"Because I'm human." She replied. "Just like you."

Erik rocked her back and forth, comforting her. "You should try to rest for a while; I will go and make you some supper."

"Erik?" She mumbled into his shoulder. "Will you sleep in here with me tonight?"

"Yes of course I will." He replied, hoping she would ask. "But right now, you need some energy from food to keep you going. I won't be long. I promise. But what would you like to eat?"

"Anything, I'm rather hungry."

"How does chicken stew sound?"

"Lovely." She replied sleepily.

"It will be about an hour to an hour and a half. Is that alright?"

"Mmmmmn." She groaned.

Erik took that as a yes, and gently laid her head down to rest on the pillow.

He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek, before sweeping out of the room and going toward the kitchen. It took him around 10 minutes to prepare all the necessary ingredients and leave the stew to boil.

_I know there is something else that needs doing. Ah yes, informing Madame Giry about Christine._

He sat down and began to write the letter.

_Antoinette,_

_I am writing to inform you of Christine's absence for this evening and tonight, and possibly tomorrow morning and afternoon._

_On her way down to visit me, Christine had a minor accident which has resulted in a sprained ankle and a bruised left hip. I have advised her to not attempt to walk as her ankle needs at least a day maybe two to heal. She will stay with me tonight and I have tended to the bruising in both places. _

_I will write informing you if anything else occurs._

_Erik._

He waited until the stew was done, poured some into a bowl and headed for the bedroom to find that Christine was fast asleep.

_I'll leave the stew for when she wakes up. I don't want to disturb her._

With that he placed the stew back into the pot before going to sit at the piano, to continue composing some more of his 'Don Juan'. The sound echoed through the lair, but was inaudible to anyone except, Erik, Christine and Porsche.


	22. Carlotta's Revenge

Chapter 22 – Carlotta's Revenge

Christine awoke the next morning feeling a lot better. Her bruised ankle had gone down a lot and looked almost normal, as had her hip where it had hit the cold damp floor.

At that moment there was a knock at the door.

"Come in Erik." Christine called.

Erik strode in with Porsche at his heels and sat down on the bottom of the bed. Porsche jumped up and nestled herself in the middle. "Good morning, how are you feeling today?"

Christine adjusted herself to sit more upright. "A lot better thank you. That cold flannel seemed to do the trick."

"Well that's good then. Now what would you like for breakfast?" He asked.

"Just tea, I don't feel very hungry actually but I may get something a little later if that's alright?"

"Yes, but you must have something before I take you back to the opera house. You will need your strength for the rehearsals."

Christine sighed. "Oh alright."

Erik smiled back. "You know I am doing this in your best interests. Now, I do not want you to move from the bed, doctor's orders!" He told her sternly.

Christine rolled her eyes as Erik swept out of the door.

He returned five minutes later to see Christine reading a book from the library.

"I told you not to walk." He said slightly frustrated.

"Oh Erik, I can walk. I wanted to get a book to read for the time being. Look, I haven't fallen or anything. I'm fine and back to normal. Stop worrying so much." She remarked sarcastically.

"I didn't hear you." He said puzzled. Usually he would have been able to hear anyone walking about.

"Maybe it was the sound of the kettle boiling, or that I was moving silently and being steady as you told me to, or that you're getting old." She said teasingly.

"Cheeky!" He replied. "I think it was probably the kettle but anyway, here drink your tea."

He handed her the mug and gave her a little peck on the cheek causing her to blush slightly.

_Old! I'm not getting old. Although I guess I'm not as young as she is._

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat. I really would recommend that you have a little something."

"Alright, if it makes you happy then I will have a little toast." She pouted.

"That's better. Is one slice alright?"

"Yes, or I will probably have to be force-fed." Christine whispered sarcastically.

As before Erik swept out of the door, leaving Christine to read the book and drink her tea.

-

There was a knock at Madame Giry's office door. "Come in." She said. Little Meg popped her head round the door. She was looking for Christine. She had been to her room to check up on her as she hadn't seen her at dinner last night.

"Mother, have you seen Christine? Is she with Erik?" Meg asked.

"She had a little bit of an accident walking down the passage." Madame Giry replied.

"An accident? Is she alright?" Meg asked, alarmed.

Madame Giry handed her Erik's note that she had received the previous evening.

"Oh goodness!" Meg exclaimed. "I really hope that she will be alright."

"She will be fine." Erik answered stepping through a passageway into the office. He was holding Christine in his strong arms with her arms around his neck for support.

"Oh God!" Meg said in fright. "Yes I know. You're Erik!" She finished quickly before Erik said anything more.

Christine and Erik both smiled. Erik put Christine down gently on her feet.

Madame Giry stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Have you had anything to eat my dear?"

Christine opened her mouth to answer but Erik replied. "What sort of host do you think I am Antoinette?" He said sarcastically.

"I was asking Christine, not you!" She retorted.

"Yes I have eaten, Madame." Christine said.

"Well then you two had better get off to rehearsals and I have to teach my ballet class. So come along you two." Antoinette ordered the two girls.

"Au revoir. Madame Giry, Mademoiselles." Erik bowed to them before disappearing again.

With that all three headed down to the main theatre to begin the day's rehearsals.

-

Clements café was round the corner from the Opera Populaire. A man with dark hair and a pinched face, wearing black trousers and a black jumper, entered and sat down at a table which was already occupied by a woman. He sat down and after a few seconds he spoke.

"I received your letter Madame. So what is it that you require from me?" The man asked.

"I heard that you are a private assassin? Are you not?" The woman asked. Her accent was Spanish and she had a high voice with a demanding tone.

"Yes I am." He stated. "Now what business would you like me to take care of?"

"Mademoiselle Christine Daae."

"You mean the famous soprano of the Opera Populaire?"

"Yes that is the one." The woman replied, hissing through clenched teeth.

"I take it this is a personal vendetta?" The man asked.

"She took everything away from me. But once she is out of the picture those pathetic managers will beg me to come back." She said almost to herself. "I will pay you a very large sum of money, if you can dispose of her."

"How much money will you pay me?"

"Five thousand Francs."

"No, that's too little for someone as well known as Mademoiselle Daae."

"Monsieur Massort. Do you realise who I am? I am the great La Carlotta of the Opera Populaire! I was there before that little former ballet rat stole my glory from me!" She growled angrily.

"Then I assume you will be able to pay me more? Say Ten thousand Francs?" He replied coolly.

"Seven Thousand"

"Nine Thousand"

"Eight thousand monsieur, and that's my final offer take it or leave it!" Carlotta said firmly, standing up and holding out an outstretched hand.

Massort knew he wouldn't be able to get any more than that. He stood up and shook Carlotta's outstretched hand.

"Madame, by this evening you may consider the job done. I will meet you back here tomorrow morning and please have a package containing the money with you." He said, his dark eyes glinting. "If you do not, I advise you to be very careful. I may just do something that may cost you your life."

Carlotta did not seem to take any notice at this warning. "Yes, yes of course. I will have your money, but you will receive it only if I know the job is done. Fair?"

"Very well Madame." With that he got up and turned to go outside.

"Oh Monsieur!" Carlotta called out to him. "If you are caught by the police, under no circumstances are they to know anything of my involvement."

"No one will ever know. I will take it to my grave. Goodbye." With that he bowed and left the building.

Carlotta smiled to herself. _Soon I will take back what is mine! No one will dare take my place again!_

-

It was around 3 o'clock that same afternoon, when a man approached the Opera Populaire.

"Excuse me sir." Said one of the men standing outside the huge front doors. "What is your business here?"

"I have come to see Mademoiselle Daae. I'm an old friend of hers. She must have forgotten to mention it. I have travelled a long way." He said sadly.

"Very well, ask someone for directions to her quarters."

"Thank you monsieur." The gentleman bowed and walked in.

The man who was wearing black with a sandy coloured jacket walked up the main stairway and took a left turn.

_If only I knew where her room was, I could be wandering around here for ages._

He saw a young woman holding a mop and broom down the hallway, heading towards him.

_She must be a cleaner. She will know where I can find Miss Daae's room._

"Excuse me mademoiselle. I am looking for Miss Daae's quarters. Would you be so kind as to give me directions? I am a friend of hers and I said I would pop in to visit." He asked politely.

"Why yes. It is along this corridor, up the stairs, then take the second left. Go up another flight of stairs and it's the 5th door on the right. I think that she is at rehearsals at the moment but should be finished soon." She replied timidly.

"Merci mademoiselle." The man said before making a short bow and heading in the direction the young maid had come from.

Massort began to walk, following the directions that he had been given. He was completely unaware that the walls of the Opera Populaire really did have ears. The Phantom of the Opera had heard him speak the name of the talented young soprano whilst lurking behind the walls of the opera house. He decided to follow this man and find out what he had to do with her.

Massort came to the door, and gave a small knock. There was no reply. Trying the handle he found that the door was locked. He removed a hand from an outer pocket and reached inside his trouser pocket pulling out a long shiny object. From what Erik could see from a distance, it was a knife with a blade that was about six inches long. It looked as though it had been sharpened to a wicked point.

Massort inserted the knife into the lock of Christine's door and wiggled it around from side to side. Erik knew that this man was not good news. He felt angry that he was prying into her room. But what was he after?

In a very short time there was a small click and Massort entered the room, checking to see that the corridor was empty beforehand and shut the door quietly behind him.

Erik quietly slipped round to where he could look into the room so that he was able to see what this man was up to. The man then began talking to himself.

"How long will she be? I will make her end quick and painless."

Erik's blood ran cold. This man meant to _kill_ Christine. He felt his temper reach its limits. Christine wasn't due to finish until 5 o'clock. He would have time to get all the information out of this man even if he had to kill to get it. He would make sure that Christine knew nothing of it because he wanted to know that she was safe.

The man sat down in an arm chair which he turned to face the doorway in preparation for his attack. He was holding the knife loosely in his hand.

Erik pulled out his noose which he always carried in the pocket of his cloak and pulled the lever softly so the mirror would not make any noise while opening. He stepped lightly through the open mirror and stood right behind the arm chair before bringing the rope tightly around Massort's thin neck.

Erik's victim dropped the knife and bought his hands up to tug the rope away. His legs were kicking violently. He froze when he heard a soft, menacing whisper come from behind his left ear.

"My dear monsieur, I am at a loss as to why you are in Miss Daae's room. Would you care to tell me why?" Erik whispered dangerously.

The man shook his head. "I will tell you nothing." At this the rope was tightened.

"Is that so?" Erik replied softly. "If you tell me what I want to know, I will spare your one and only life!"

"W – Why would I tell you?" He spluttered.

"Do you wish to meet your end at the hands of me? The Opera Ghost?"

The man in the chair's breathing became more frantic. He pulled even harder against the rope and thrashed his legs about. He had heard of the opera ghost but the way that Erik had said it caused him to panic.

"I wouldn't struggle if I were you. I do not wish to kill you… Just yet."

"How do I know that you are w – who you say you are?" Massort replied with a shaky voice.

"I will ask the questions. First of all, who are you, who sent you and for what reason?" Erik snapped.

"What does it matter? I will be dead as soon as I tell you. But then, ghosts can't really kill can they? They don't exist."

"Really? Well maybe this will convince you." Erik said wickedly.

He tied the rope in a knot down the back of the chair and secured it so that Massort couldn't escape and then moved slowly to the front of the chair so that he could see him.

_The ghost is a man but what about the descriptions of his deformed face with no nose?_

"You have heard of the infamous Opera Ghost who wears a black cape and a white mask?"

Massort nodded. Erik noticed him turn very pale.

"And also of the hideous face which is sealed behind the mask. Perhaps you would like to see?" Erik taunted.

Massort shook his head violently from side to side. Erik smirked.

"No? Then perhaps you will tell me what I want to know."

"Alright, Alright!" He shouted. "I was hired to kill Christine Daae by a woman, err Spanish accent, high voice, said her glory was stolen by Miss Daae." He panted, he couldn't remember her name.

_That toad! _Erik thought angrily.

"La Carlotta?" The phantom asked.

"Y – Yes, that's the one. She said she would pay me Eight thousand francs to do it. When she hears the job is done we will meet and I am to take the money."

_Carlotta has crossed the line this time. Maybe I can use this fool to get to her. Then hopefully she will get the message._

"Where did you plan to meet?"

"Clement's café. It's around the corner from here. There, that's everything."

"One tiny detail left actually, your name."

"What does it matter?" He retorted.

"_Your name!"_ Erik repeated impatiently.

"Ramon Massort. I'm a private assassin. I get hired by all sorts of people to do their work."

"I could tell your profession, but I only asked for your name." Erik replied tiredly.

Erik adjusted the rope so it was still round Massort's neck. And the other end of the lasso was firmly in both hands.

"Y – You said you would spare my life!" He said, terror laced in his trembling voice.

Erik bent down and whispered again in Massort's left ear. "I lied." He said before giving a sharp tug on the rope, causing his victim's neck to snap.

Massort's lifeless body went limp. Erik bent down and removed the lasso from around the deceased man's neck, and pocketed it in his cloak.

He proceeded to pick up the young man's body in his arms and slip quietly though the mirror. Heading for the stables he dumped the body in one of the horse's stalls and covered it with hay. He would leave it there for one of the young stable lads to find. He just hoped that Christine wouldn't find out. He had promised her that he wouldn't kill again. But Massort would be more use dead than alive.

If he had let him go he wouldn't be able to guarantee his silence nor stop him from killing others on another person's order. He might even have attempted to kill Christine again and succeeded. He didn't know what he would have done if Massort had succeeded. The thought made him feel sick, and even more determined to get rid of Carlotta knowing that she had given him the order.

He walked back down through the passageways, plotting how he was going to make Carlotta pay. He wasn't going to kill her. That was too low for him to kill a woman. He would try to frighten her, perhaps enough to stay away from the Opera or even move out of Paris.

He approached his desk where Porsche was waiting for him. He gestured for her to move off his seat and she obeyed. He sat down and began to write on a spare piece of parchment.

_Madame,_

_The job has been taken care of. However there is a change of plan. I shall meet you in the stables of the Opera Populaire at midnight this evening. This way there will be no one around to see the deal being done and you can have proof for yourself of the death of mademoiselle Daae. I require that you bring the eight thousand francs with you tonight, as promised._

_M. Ramon Massort._

Erik now needed Carlotta's home address. It should be in the archives of the Opera where the personal details of all past and present employees were kept.

_This is a job for Antoinette._

He pulled out another piece of parchment and began to write a short note for Madame Giry with instructions. So he could acquire the archive folder and obtain the information needed from it.

_Antoinette._

_As a favour, when you get the chance could you collect the archive folder which contains details about people connected with the Opera Populaire and leave it in your office for me to collect._

_Erik. _

Erik placed the note in an envelope and sealed it with a red wax skull. He left and headed for the main theatre. Porsche leaped up into the now empty chair and snuggled down watching her master depart in the boat.

-

"For the last time girls, point those toes! Legs straight! Focus!" Antoinette bellowed at her class. "Alright let's try it again."

Madame Giry stood aside and watched her class perform. Again someone did something wrong. Her nostrils flared in distress.

"Grr." She growled. She marched up and down the side corridor a little way placing her hands on either side of her face and looking despairingly up at the ceiling.

She failed to notice a piece of parchment fluttering down from the landing. It hit her straight in the face.

"AH!" She cried in shock and slightly in pain as one of the sharp corners had left a mark on her forehead.

She bent down and picked up the letter scanning through it. She walked back over to her class. "Alright, take a ten minute break. No one is to be late!" She ordered.

She waited until her ballet class had all disappeared off the stage before heading to the administration office.

-

Erik went into her office to find she had done as he asked and left the file there for him to collect.

As he went to pick it up he saw a note on top of it. Saying simply

_Next time, be careful where you drop your letters!_

_Antoinette. _

Erik smirked slightly before taking the file under his arm and making his way back down to his lair. He had already found the address and was ready to write it on the envelope and send it to Madame toad.


	23. Erik's Plan

Chapter 23 – Erik's Plan.

Erik wrote the address on the envelope. He was careful not to seal it with his trademark wax skull as it was not supposed to be him who had written it. He hoped that Carlotta would fall into his trap.

He would need Antoinette to post it now. However he wasn't so sure she would do it this time as he had accidentally dropped his previous letter to her on her head.

_She will have gotten over that. This needs to be done. I won't allow it to wait. Now I have to go back up to her office._

So, for the umpteenth time that afternoon, he headed back up to the surface but this time Porsche accompanied him. She walked around the edge of the black water as he rowed the boat across it and then leaped up onto his shoulder, balancing there as he walked on up the passageway.

Erik was in luck. Madame Giry was in her office this time. He paused hoping she wouldn't fly off the handle at him about the letter.

He opened the secret doorway that led into her office and stepped in quietly. She had obviously heard him, for no sooner had he taken one step towards her, she looked up sighed and said: "What do you want?"

Erik stopped and thought about this quickly.

_Apologise; at least that way if she is annoyed with me I can put things right before I ask her to post the letter._

"To apologise for dropping the last letter _accidentally_ on your head."

"The real reason Erik?" She said, still not looking up.

She wasn't annoyed with him thank heavens. If she was he would have known, she would be far more coldly polite with him than this.

"I need you to post this letter for me today, please Antoinette." Erik said.

"Oh, Erik can't you see I'm busy. I have lots of paper work to do as well as worry over the fact that my ballet dancers are not giving it 100 effort!" She replied, her voice tired and strained.

"Then tell your ballet rats to improve or I will get them."

"Hmm, I do not know if that will work Erik."

"Oh it will, trust me on that. If they believe that I exist. After all, if they hear me but do not see me, then I will fit the description of what a real ghost is like." He whispered slyly.

"I will not have you terrorising my ballet dancers, Erik!" She retorted.

"Who said I would terrorise them? I meant merely that I should have a word with them, so at least when you tell them 'The Phantom of the Opera will get them' they know you are not joking." He told her a faint note of sarcasm and glee in his voice.

"Whatever you like. Where is this letter?"

Erik pulled the envelope from out of his cloak pocket and dropped it on the desk.

Madame Giry picked it up and read the address.

"No skull? And why are you writing to Carlotta?" She asked suspiciously.

"That is not of your concern. Please do not ask me anymore on the subject." He told her.

Madame Giry simply nodded in response. It was not up to her to pry through his business and so she wouldn't ask him any more on the subject. She would probably only worry if she knew the full story.

"Fine, I will post it now." Madame Giry got up but as she did so Porsche, who Erik had completely forgotten about, jumped up onto the table.

Madame Giry gasped in fright and tripped over her heel, she was thankful for Erik's quick reflexes and reactions, as he caught her as she fell.

_Great, will she post the letter after that?_

She pulled herself upright with help from Erik. Opened one of her desk draws and pulled out a brush and raised it ready to throw it at the cat.

Erik grabbed her wrist gently to stop her from releasing it. "Porsche will hate you should you throw that, and I will not be too happy to see her hurt either." He said softly.

"Erik!" She sounded angry now. "I will post your letter but you must promise me that you will keep your cat away from me!"

"I promise. I'm sorry I forgot that she…" He started.

"I don't care! I have told you repeatedly to keep that cat away from me!" She snapped.

"And I will!" Erik said his voice becoming louder. But he knew there was no point in arguing as this time, like most others, she was probably right.

She picked up the letter and said calmly. "I will go to post the letter now. I hope that it does not cause any trouble."

"It will not. I promise you. Thank you Antoinette." He turned and headed back for the secret doorway.

"Erik." Madame Giry called after him.

He turned to face her.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" She said pointing at Porsche who was sitting upright looking at her evilly.

Erik walked over, scooped the cat up in his arms and carried her through the doorway out of sight.

-

The ballet rats had their dormitory up on the top level. Girls aged 12 to 14 were all in one room. Some of the older girls like Christine and Meg had their own rooms as they were older and needed some privacy. The younger girls were usually sent home for the night, as they only had classes and did not always perform in productions.

It was around 8 o'clock; the time the girls went to bed and lights out at 8.30. Erik knew Madame Giry was worried but he had watched them for a few minutes before dropping the letter and had noticed that some of the girls were not putting all their effort in. As they either found it too hard or tiring. He knew Faust was a difficult piece for the actors but not so for the ballet.

He could hear some of the girls whispering to one another when he went to the dormitory about 8.20 that evening. They were complaining about how the piece was too difficult and how Madame Giry was always shouting at them for nothing.

He heard two of the girls who slept in beds next to each other whispering to one another.

"Madame Giry is being so silly over this. We do our best but we always get shouted at."

"Yeah I know, the silly old bat!"

"She thinks she knows everything. I bet we could do it fine if it wasn't for her being so critical all the time."

Erik became very annoyed by what these two were saying about Antoinette. He decided that maybe if the same words came from the Phantom of the Opera they would never say such things again.

Clearing his throat silently he threw his voice into the room.

"I'm sure Madame Giry knows exactly what she is doing." He bellowed, voice echoing round the room.

There were frightened whispers and one of the younger ones screamed.

"My eyes do not lie; some of you have not been putting in all your effort."

Again more whispers.

"Do not forget that this Opera house belongs to me, and I expect you to all put in your best effort or I may have to speak to you in person. Do you understand? And should anyone say anything bad about Madame Giry then they will have me to answer to!"

All of them made loud jitters and shuffled about in their beds. Erik was just about to leave, satisfied that he had made his point clear when a young voice spoke out.

"You will not hurt any of us! We do our best!"

Erik recognised the girl with dark hair and blue eyes to be young Zurie Beaumont.

"The angel of music will protect us!" She shouted triumphantly.

All the other girls were silent and did not move. Zurie however got out of bed looking around and continued.

"You do not scare me! Ghosts do not harm! So leave us alone you devil!"

Erik smiled. The child had a lot of guts to stand up to him like that, no one else ever had. "You dare oppose the Opera Ghost?" He asked.

"Yes I do! You claim this place belongs to you. No it does not! So leave everyone alone!" She shouted.

Erik paused before answering her. "You are brave Mademoiselle Beaumont. But I was not speaking directly to you. Madame Giry does her best for all you ballet girls. You should be a little more polite and be thankful for it. That is all I have come to say. Bon nuit and I look forward to your rehearsal tomorrow with great anticipation." He whispered coolly before leaving them to whisper among themselves.

_Young Zurie is quite a character. She will do well in my opera house as long as she does not answer me back too often._

Having taken care of things, all he needed to do was prepare for his meeting with la Carlotta at midnight that night. He was hoping that this meeting would go according to plan.

-

Erik was going to head back down to his lair to finish off some more of his Opera, 'Don Juan Triumphant', when he heard a voice singing. He smiled as he realised where it was coming from.

He approached the mirror to see Christine standing there spinning around and singing one of the songs from Faust. She was singing it with the passion that he had told her about and it really moved him.

"Brava, Brava, Bravisima!" He whispered.

Christine turned round and ran towards the mirror. "Oh, Erik, I was hoping you would come to visit."

"It was your beautiful voice which led me to you. You are going to give your best performance yet."

Christine blushed slightly. "Merci monsieur."

"Was it a good rehearsal today?" He asked.

"Yes. It went better today. Why don't you come out from behind the mirror?" She replied in a child like way.

"It is late my dear. You need your rest and I have some important matters to attend to but I will say goodnight to you properly."

With that he stepped out into the room after the mirror slid into the floor and embraced Christine in his slender, muscular arms. They kissed each other passionately before parting.

"Erik, will you sing to me? Please."

Erik scooped her light, frail body in his arms and walked over to the bed and laid her down gently. He brushed a single strand of hair out of her eyes. She smiled sweetly at him. She was reluctant to let go of his neck.

He lowered his head so that their lips met again. He pulled away soon after and began to sing 'Music of the Night'.

**Night time sharpens heightens each sensation…**

**Darkness stirs and wakes imagination…**

Christine felt hypnotised by his voice, like she was on cloud 9. Waves of pleasure hit her as his voice reached her ears. With each passing verse, she could feel herself being pulled into dreamland. She did not want to fight it. She gave into his voice, the music and the darkness that shrouded her mind. She could not work it out but there was something about the song that was more than just music.

**Help me make the music of the night…**

Erik looked at Christine's sleeping form. He tucked her underneath the covers. He could not tear his gaze away from her. He wanted to stay with her to protect her from any evil that there may be in the world.

His thoughts were bought back to Carlotta. After tonight she would never come within 10 miles of the Opera house. He would make sure of it.

"Goodnight my angel, pleasant dreams." He whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead.

Porsche stepped through the mirror just as he was about to leave.

"Porsche, would you please take care of Christine for me?" Erik asked the cat.

Porsche jumped onto the bed and curled up on the pillow beside Christine. Erik smiled and nodded at the cat before swiftly entering the passage before the mirror closed behind him.

Christine sighed in her sleep and mumbled. "Erik?"

Porsche put her head down but kept her yellow eyes open, watching her masters loved one settle and sleep soundlessly.

-

It was pitch black in the stables. The horses were asleep and the stable where Massort had been buried under the straw was empty. No one had found him to Erik's relief. He bent down and uncovered him, pulling his collar down so he could see the angry red mark he left around his neck when he had killed him.

He went out into the main part of the yard where he hid in the shadows, waiting like a predator ready to catch its prey.

Two minutes past midnight; she was late! Erik could see his breath steaming in the cold night air. His ears caught the sound of faint footsteps making their way towards the stable entrance which he had conveniently left open for her.

There was a loud trotting sound, the shape stopped. Erik had unusually sharp vision in the dark. He could see as well as hear that it was La Carlotta.

She was carrying a bag which Erik assumed contained the money. This would make a nice little bonus added to the 20,000 francs he had already received that month.

"Monsieur Massort?" The shadowy figure asked.

Putting on a hoarse whisper he answered. "Do you have the money?"

Carlotta threw the bag in front of her. "It's all there, the eight thousand that you asked for." She made one of her childish giggles. "Was her death slow and painful? Or did you put that vile girl out of her misery quickly?" She said with joy.

"You will see the details in the newspaper tomorrow." He replied.

"Then that's everything, Au revoir monsieur." She whispered happily.

Carlotta turned to walk out when a gloved hand clamped over her mouth and a voice whispered in her ear. "There was no death, toad. But I will show you what happens to those who dare to threaten Miss Daae's life."

He dragged her roughly into the stable where the hired assassin lay with his dead eyes staring up at the wooden ceiling and his body slumped on the hay. The livid mark around his neck was very visible.

"They end up dead." He hissed menacingly.

Carlotta struggled and tried to tear the hands away from her mouth so that she could scream. Looking at the assassin whom she had hired and was laying dead on the floor before her was frightening. The fact that she was in the Phantom's grasp terrified her that she would end up the same way.

"You will never break free, the more you squirm the tighter my hold will be."

Carlotta stopped struggling. Erik slowly removed a hand from her mouth. "Go on then." He taunted. "Scream."

Carlotta opened her mouth but found that no sound would come out. It only came out in very quick gasps.

"What's the matter? Lost your voice?" Erik whispered mockingly.

Carlotta kept gasping, but managed to choke out the words. "A – Are y-y-ou going to k-k-k-ill me?"

With that Erik pulled out his noose and threw the loop over her head. Carlotta winced in fear as he began to push her towards the ground. She landed on her knees looking at Massort's limp, dead body.

Erik really wanted to kill her. He heard voices shouting in his head.

_Kill her. Don't be soft. Show no remorse, it was her who ordered that Christine be killed. What would you have done if the assassin had succeeded? Hm? She may try it again._ His own voice was telling him.

Carlotta began to weep, saying something in Spanish. It sounded like she was praying. This made Erik's heart lurch. Then another voice spoke in his mind, the voice was Christine's.

_Please Erik, You promised me you would never kill again. Please let her go, for me. You're not a bad person and you do not have the right to take away another person's life._

Erik looked down again at Carlotta who was weeping harder. This time she spoke to him.

"Well, if you are going to kill me please get it over with." She whispered between sobs.

_You promised her. If you love her you wouldn't betray her._

Erik took in a deep breath, bent down and covered her mouth again. But placed a hand on her back, making sure she wouldn't stand up. "If I let you go, you will never return to the Opera House. You will leave Paris and never return. If you do not obey this warning I will not spare your life next time. Do you understand?"

Carlotta nodded, her breathing becoming rapid.

"No one else is to know about this little event, if anything should happen. I will find you. That's a promise." He told her firmly.

Erik removed the lasso from around her neck and uncovered her mouth. "Au revoir." He whispered.

Carlotta heard a swishing sound and spun round but could not see anyone and the 8,000 francs had gone missing too. Shakily, she got up and walked carefully out of the stables. The Phantom of the Opera was real indeed and he had spared her life. She was not stupid enough to disobey him.

When she was completely out of sight Erik re-emerged. He was satisfied that Carlotta would disappear out of his life once and for all. He picked up the body of the dead Massort and walked out back down to his lair.

He reached the lake, heaved the body into the boat and rowed out into the middle. He placed the body gently into the water and let go. He watched his latest victim sink until he could not see him.

He rowed the boat back to the shore and went to his room where he sat down on the bed. He was thinking whilst counting the money which Carlotta had brought with her.

_I let the toad go. Should I have done? I think she understood my warning. It was a promise so I will do what I have to should she dare show her face again._

Erik counted the money. It was all there. His thoughts turned to Christine. At least she was safe. And hopefully would never find out about today's incident.


	24. Journey to the Cemetery

Chapter 24 – Journey to the cemetery

The weeks passed by. The first performance of Faust was tomorrow evening. Everyone was busy preparing, rehearsing like mad, setting up the stage, and finalising costumes. All involved were busy. All the seats for the first night had been sold. This was going to be the Populaire's biggest production yet.

Christine had still been giving young Zurie singing lessons and with each one she was improving. She was always very keen to know more about the angel of music as Christine had told her he tutored her. She wondered if he had also been sent from her mother up in heaven. Erik watched the girl, impressed by her character, her bravery and quick learning.

Meg and Byron were now a couple. They had denied it at first because Meg feared how her mother would react. But Madame Giry didn't take it badly at all. In fact she was pleased for her daughter as she was of age to start dating. It was only natural for a girl in her late teens. Since Byron was a very decent and good hearted person Madame Giry gave them her blessing and since then they had been more open about their relationship.

Rumours around Paris were that La Carlotta and her husband Piangi had moved out of France and had gone to live in Carlotta's home country of Spain. Indeed everyone was pleased to hear this as they were afraid that she would come back and the managers would take her back. They knew she had not been able to get work in an Opera any where else so had no choice but to leave.

Erik on the other hand knew the full story as to why she had really left. He was never going to reveal it. To his amazement she had not called the police. It looked like their confrontation had given Erik the result he wanted.

Christine continued to sing to perfection. Erik would come to watch her in rehearsals occasionally and later on that evening visit her in her room to give her advice on anything she could improve. This was mainly with the acting.

Otherwise everything went well. He had also watched the ballet rats. In the end Madame Giry had used the threat 'The Phantom will get you' to make sure they put their full effort into it, and it had worked. They knew the Phantom existed. He had spoken to them all that night. They had never mentioned it again in case they made him cross.

He had also made notes on the orchestra and what should be done, which was very little, and they obeyed him.

Firmin and André had kept their heads buried in paperwork. They were sorting out bills and other bits and pieces that managers have to attend to. This pleased Erik, as he believed their place was to stay in their office. All was going well. It was exactly as he wanted _his_ Theatre to be run.

He was again going to watch the rehearsals and the final practice before the performance that evening. The performers were all in costume with the stage, props and everything else needed to make Faust come alive. He would make notes so that Faust would be the Opera's biggest hit yet.

He overheard Meg and Byron talking on his way down. They seemed worried. They were talking to Madame Giry.

"Mother we have looked everywhere. There is no sign of Christine." Meg said quickly.

_Christine is missing?_

"Do not worry sweetheart." Byron said putting a comforting arm around Meg's shoulder. "I'm sure she will turn up, but we must start rehearsing."

"Yes alright. We will see you later mother. If Christine is found please let us know."

"Yes of course I will my dear, now off you go." She replied, embracing her daughter.

Madame Giry headed off down the corridor towards Christine's room. Erik appeared in front of her.

"Nobody has seen her?" He inquired.

"No, no one, but you were the person I came to find. Could she of gone to your home?" Antoinette asked.

"I don't know she may have done. What about her room?" He replied.

"That is where I am going to check, Erik."

"I will come with you."

"Very well."

They entered Christine's room to find it was empty. Her bed was made up, everything neat and tidy. Her wardrobe was full so she had not packed to leave anywhere. Erik stepped on the tile and disappeared through the mirror.

Upon returning to his lair he called out: "Christine!" Her name echoed around the cavern. But there was no reply. He searched all the rooms, the library, the kitchen, the main room where the organ was, his bedroom and her room. There was only Porsche on his bed where she had been this morning. She poked her head up to see what all the fuss was about.

"Porsche, where could Christine be?" He asked the cat stupidly.

To his surprise the cat jumped off the bed and hurried out of the room. Erik assumed that she knew where Christine would be, so followed her. She walked around the lake and led him up one of the passage ways. He hadn't been down this one for a long time but he knew where it led.

It led him to the chapel. _Of course Christine always came down here if she wanted to be on her own for a while._

He walked in hoping to see Christine kneeling saying a prayer for her father with a candle lit. Instead he saw an empty room.

He sighed looking around. "It's ok. Thank you Porsche, you can go back now. But keep out of Antoinette's way."

The cat mewed and plodded out of the room.

Erik looked around remembering this is where he first saw Christine as a child and started admiring her. Indeed she was a pretty girl, and as she grew older Erik's feelings for her had become stronger. Now Christine knew him and had told him that she was in love with him. It all seemed a lifetime ago

His eye caught a flicker. It was a flame, and a candle had been lit. So Christine had been down here to pray for her father. He knew Christine had been very close to him as her mother had died when she was born. He looked after his little girl, and had told her about the angel of music.

When he came down here he heard her whisper about the angel of music. It gave him the perfect opportunity to get to know her. Now that her father was gone Erik would look after Christine in his memory.

Erik was not really religious but wanted to pay his respects to Gustav. He lit a candle to burn along with Christine's already lit one.

There was a picture of him in the middle of the memorial: Gustav Daae at the top in red letters and underneath it read: 12th of August 1812 – 26th of March 1859.

He looked at the date _26th of March 1859._ Realisation hit him hard. He tore from the room leaving it empty but the candles still alight.

He ran to Madame Giry's office and found Meg on her own in there.

"Oh hello Erik, have you seen Christine?" She asked.

"No but I know where she is. The date today is March the 26th right?" He asked, out of breath.

"Yes it is, but why is that important?"

"It's the anniversary of her father's death." He replied. Meg's eyes widened. "Just go back to the rehearsals, you inform your mother and I will go to see Christine."

"Yes, alright." She said and hurried out of the door.

Erik bolted for the stables. Luckily, the stable lads were all off having lunch. He went to see that Caesar had already been saddled. He mounted him, gave the horse a sharp kick in the sides with his heels and galloped off, his cloak trailing behind him.

He decided to go through the woods as a short cut. Caesar was a black stallion and the opera's most prized horse. He was indeed faster than any of the others. Erik had ridden him a few times when he ventured out into the night. He galloped over the fallen trees splashed through the puddles kicked up the mud behind him but never lost pace.

The Cemetery was about a ten minute journey away. He came to a halt outside the gates. He jumped off of Caesar, tied his bridle to the fence of the cemetery and went in through the gates. The cemetery was big with cold statues of angels, headstones with worn away lettering, and dull colours of grey surrounding him.

He continued to wander through the maze of stone statues, memorials, crypts and gravestones. He noticed black clouds looming overhead. It began to rain lightly, making the whole scene seem even gloomier than before.

Erik stopped suddenly. He heard a faint voice and cautiously he made his way towards it. He looked around one of the statues and saw a figure wearing a long cloak to protect against the cold, long tight curls of a rich brown colour hanging down her back. She was kneeling on the ground looking up at a crypt that lay before her. _Daae _was carved into the stone in large letters.

He walked closer and heard her singing a soft tune. As he approached her he could hear the words clearly.

**No more memories…**

**No more silent tears…**

**No more gazing back over the wasted years…**

**Help me to say goodbye.**

She looked up again and cried out "Father!" Before dissolving into tears and burying her head in her hands.

Erik walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, kneeling down beside her. Christine snapped her head up in surprise before realising who it was. She leaned into his chest and cried hard, the tears rolling down her cheeks staining her face. "Erik." She whispered. He held her close, and stroked her hair with his gloved hand.

"It's alright Christine. I'm here for you." He said softly.

Christine looked deeply into his blue eyes. "Oh Erik, I just miss him so much. I have never got over the fact that he isn't in my life any more." She looked down again, not wanting him to see her like this.

"It's alright to miss your father. He was a good man." He replied.

"Yes he was." She said in agreement. "I wish you could have met him. You would have got on so well."

"Maybe so." He said softly. "Why didn't you tell anyone you were coming here?"

"I didn't want people to fuss, with the usual 'are you alright Christine?' I just wanted to be alone. But I'm glad you are here." She told him.

She placed her head down on his shoulder and wrapped her arms tightly around him. He clung onto her for comfort. They sat there for several long minutes enjoying each other's company and the silence.

Erik tilted her head up to meet his gaze. He stared into her bright emerald eyes and she stared back into his. Each of them was smiling. "I love you. And I will always be there for you. I promise."

He stood up took her hands in his and pulled her up after him.

**I'm here nothing can harm you…**

**My words will warm and calm you…**

He began to lead her back through the cemetery towards the entrance, his gaze never leaving hers.

**To guard you and to guide you…**

She smiled at him, feeling very comforted by his words.

**Promise me that all you say is true.**

**Erik, that's all I ask of you.**

They walked in silence throughout the journey to the entrance. Erik felt Christine hesitate. He turned to see if anything was wrong but she was just smiling at him. "Erik, I love you too. And I know you will always be there for me and you know that I will be there for you too."

"I will keep it in mind. Come on lets go back." He replied.

"How did you know I was here?" She asked.

"Your father's memorial down in the chapel." He answered simply.

"You saw the date?"

"Yes."

"Erik, please don't make me go to the afternoon rehearsals. I want to stay in the chapel, with you."

"Very well, but you must go to the one tonight. I will be watching all of it."

"Alright." She said quietly.

They walked out of the gates and walked towards the horse. "You bought Caesar?" She chuckled. "He has always been my favourite. I used to bring him apples and sugar cubes."

"He is a good horse isn't he?" Erik said patting the horse's neck. "Well come on. Let's go home."

Erik helped Christine up on the horse, and then got up himself. Christine placed a hand on Erik's shoulder. "Please walk Caesar home. I'm not all that comfortable with galloping."

Erik squeezed the horse's sides and Caesar started walking in the direction of the woods. The sun broke through the clouds and brightened the sky.

"You know this is the first time I have ventured outside in daylight. I never really realised that the outside was quite like this." He said.

"You have lived in a world of night. Maybe you should try to like the light." Christine replied.

"Light has always been cruel to me. It was used to show my face. In darkness I felt comfort that no one could see me, my hideousness, when I was younger."

"You know you don't need to hide your face from me Erik, I love you for who you are, it doesn't matter what you look like."

Erik smiled. "I wish I could feel the same. It is me who hates my own face. The mask makes me bearable to look at. But even then, they wonder what is behind it."

"Why does it matter? You are talented and gifted with music. That matters most to you."

"You are the most important person in my life. My music and the night are important to me and are a huge part of my life. I don't know what I would do without you, Christine."

"I don't know what I would do without you either. Without you I would still be a ballet student. You have given me the audiences, my voice and made me realise how much I really do love you."

Christine wrapped her arms round Erik's waist as the horse carried them through the woods and fields. As they approached the stables Erik stopped the horse and turned his face toward Christine's.

"Did anyone see you leave?"

"No, I walked to the cemetery."

"Alright, you will have to take Caesar back in. If anyone asks then you took him to the cemetery while everyone was at lunch. Ok?" He told her.

"Yes." She replied.

Erik slid off the horses back. "I will go and tell Antoinette of your absence and that you will not be in the afternoon rehearsal. I will meet you in the Chapel if you like?"

"Yes, thank you Erik."

He tapped the horse's side and Caesar walked off into the stables with Christine on his back. With that, Erik disappeared.

"Miss Daae?" One of the young stable boys asked.

"I'm sorry. I took Caesar to the Cemetery, and you were all at lunch." She replied.

"Oh very well, here let me help you." He helped Christine get off the horse's back.

He led Caesar away and Christine returned the cloak to the cloak room and walked into the Opera Populaire.

"Christine!" Meg's voice rang out. "Come we must go to rehearsal."

"No Meg, I will be at the final one tonight but please, I just wish to be left in peace." She replied tiredly.

"Oh I'm sorry; it's your father's…" She began apologetically.

"Death anniversary, I know Meg." She cut in.

"Ok, well I'll see you tonight; I told Byron I wouldn't be long." She said, walking off.

Christine hurried down to the chapel, pleased to get away from the eyes that looked at her as she walked past people.

Her mouth fell open as she saw another lit candle and Erik standing there waiting for her. "I have told Antoinette. She says it is fine to go to the evening rehearsal and she sends her deepest sympathies."

"Did you light a candle for my father?" She asked in a whisper.

"Yes" He answered softly. "I wanted to pay my respects."

Tears formed in Christine's eyes. "Thank you." She wept.

Erik walked over and used a gloved thumb to wipe away the falling tears. He cupped her cheek looking deep into her eyes and began to sing to her softly.

**Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime . . .  
Say the word and I will follow you . . .  
**  
**Share each day with me, each night, each morning . . .**

Christine answered and sang with him. Even though she knew the answer; she sang.

**Say you love me . . .**

Erik answered exactly as Christine knew he would.

**You know I do . . .**

They pulled each other in a close embrace, and shared a passionate kiss. Breaking away they both sang in perfect harmony.

**Love me - that's all I ask of you . . .**

They hugged each other for several moments. Christine spoke, in a hoarse whisper.

"Thank you, for staying with me. I'm sorry you have to deal with this." She said apologetically.

"You don't need to apologise, there is no reason to." He told her. "You should rest for the afternoon. You will need your strength and no doubt you are emotionally drained."

"Erik, may we stay here? I would prefer it, and no one comes down here anyway so we have no chance of being disturbed." She asked.

"Of course, if that is what you want." He answered.

They both sat down, Christine leaning against Erik. She closed her eyes and began to sleep. Erik sat with her, feeling his eyes droop as well. Eventually they both drifted off, leaving the candles to burn out taking the light they gave out away from the room.


	25. Faust

Chapter 25- Faust

"OK... relax...you are going to do just fine." Whispered Meg Giry to herself, a script clutched in her right hand, eyes shut tight in concentration. Opening her eyes, she looked back down at the open script, and then clapped a hand to her forehead. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She said, hitting herself with each word. "You're not even in this scene!"

"Problems my love?" Byron Larogue entered the theatre. There were several people adding the finishing touches to the set, and Meg, standing in the middle of the stage, looking as though she had just been sentenced to death.

"Just, pre-performance nerves." Her voice was barely more than a whisper. Byron put his arm around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"You will be fine. I bet you get this feeling every time and then after the performance you just look back at it and laugh." This didn't have any effect on Meg whatsoever.

"But what if I forget some of my lines? Or sing out of key in a chorus...or...or..." Byron thought she looked like she was going to faint, and was not to happy to see that he was right. She collapsed into his arms, totally unconscious.

"Meg...? MEG!"

"Oh don't worry Monsieur." Byron looked round to see Christine Daae walking towards him. "This isn't the first time. She sometimes gets a little worked up if she thinks she will do anything wrong in a production."

Christine bent down and picked up the script on the floor. Byron looked over her shoulder to see what scene she had been studying.

"She's not even in that scene." And so she wasn't. It happened to be the church scene which was near to the end of the play.

"Actually she is rehearsing. Her character is supposed to be dead at this point! I must say she is doing a very good job of portraying that." Madame Giry said loudly, coming over to join the two of them. This comment caused both Byron and Christine to laugh. "Getting worked up again is she?"

"Apparently so." answered Byron. Madame Giry walked over to her daughter and began lightly slapping the sides of her face. After a few minutes, Meg opened her eyes. She saw the script in Christine's hands and seized it.

"Damn, Damn, Damn." She whispered dramatically, skimming through the pages.

"MEG GIRY, HOW DARE YOU USE THAT LANGUAGE!" Madame Giry gave Meg a sharp swat on the back of her head. Christine started to laugh.

"How can you be so calm at a time like this!?" Meg began. "The performance is in..." She checked the clock on the far wall. "Four and a half hours!"

"Which is exactly why you have to calm down Meg, if you are like this now then what are you going to be like just before the curtain call." This didn't have the effect that Christine wanted, in-fact, Meg fainted yet again at the very thought of it.

"Oh great, she might break her own record of five if she keeps this up." Said Madame Giry. Byron laid Meg down on the stage and Christine started trying to bring her back to consciousness, which she had had to do in many previous productions.

-

"Four hours fifteen minutes!" Boomed Firmin. "And another full house!"

"Why are you getting so worked up Richard?" Asked André. "You've seen them in rehearsals. They are amazing!"

"Yes, but what if the audience don't like it?" He was truly in hysterics now. "I mean, this will be one of the biggest productions that the Populaire has put on. What if they don't like it? What if they ask for..." He then turned chalk white. "...refunds?" And with that, he gave a very small whimper... and fainted.

Madame Giry chose that precise moment to enter the room. "Oh dear." She sighed, shaking her head. "It seems like everyone has something to panic about."

"He wasn't like this for Il Muto." Said André, looking confused.

"That because Il Muto isn't a very well known opera, is it Monsieur?" Replied Antoinette.

"Well he certainly did pick a good time to lose his nerve. I mean, Faust is one thing, but also the..." There was a knock on the door and a stage manager burst in through it moments later.

"Excuse me, but have any of you seen the caretaker because somebody has been vomiting all over the stage. I think it's Meg Giry. She does look very nervous." Said the man, very quickly, not even pausing to draw breath.

Firmin had regained consciousness for that very sentence. "Vomit on the stage, what if the caretakers..." He fainted again, and André could just about hear him mutter. "...pay rise..." André then tried to revive him in the same way that Madame Giry had done with Meg.

"We haven't seen them. Just get it cleaned up as quickly as possible." Replied Madame Giry, trying to stay calm.

-

"Well that's new for you Meg." Meg looked over at Christine who was talking to her. "I've seen you faint plenty of times, but being sick is a new one to me."

Meg was still a very delicate shade of green. However she was still clinging to the script in her hand as if it were her lifeline, not even daring to put it down, as if she thought it were going to burst into flames if she did.

"Well Meg." Said a cleaning lady who had come to clean up the mess. "You're not alone this time. The man who came to fetch me told me that one of the managers fainted." This comment seemed to do the trick as Meg gave a weak laugh and managed to get to her feet.

"Right, now hand over the script." Said Byron, quietly, and slowly but surely, Meg reached out and gave the script to him. "I'm sure you've heard of over rehearsing?"

Not waiting for an answer, he gave Meg a swift kiss on the cheek, walked backstage and dumped the script in the bin.

"You're right. I know my lines. I don't need that script any more..." She looked as though she was about to make a dash for the bin, but managed to contain herself. "Which manager was it?" She called over to the cleaner.

"The tall one." The cleaner replied.

"Firmin..." Christine giggled, showing an amazing amount of self composure.

The rest of the time before rehearsals began was rather uneventful. Firmin had managed to faint no less than ten times, with different excuses such as 'What if a prop goes missing? What if a backdrop falls?' This greatly annoyed Meg, due to the fact that her record had been broken by an 'amateur' as she called him.

With one hour left until the curtain call, Christine started to feel her nerves getting the better of her. Not wanting to stay around someone like Meg, who was likely to get very dramatic if she saw Christine's nervousness, Christine made her way back to her room.

She was startled to see that the mirror was open when she got there. However her door had been locked, and there was no trace of anybody going down to the lair.

"Good evening Christine." Christine whirled around and was startled to see that Daroga was sitting on the end of her bed. She must have walked right past him, focusing on the mirror.

"I... didn't see you there." She said faintly.

"Strange how short sighted an open mirror can make you."

"And how witty it can make you, Daroga." Came a voice Christine recognized as Erik's from the open mirror. "I've never seen you run so fast in my life."

"I just wanted to put a bit of distance between myself and that bloody platform!" Erik laughed at this.

"Call it a 'lift'. I think it sounds better than 'platform'."

Daroga opened his mouth to reply, but Christine cut him off. "What are you doing here?"

"Why do you think? I'm here to see the production, and of course to wish you good luck." He replied.

"No..." Said Christine again. "I meant what are you doing **here**, in this room."

"This is the only exit that was safe to use, all of the others have somebody outside them." Replied Erik.

Daroga got up and walked over to Christine. "Well, good luck Miss Daae. I had best leave while there is a panic so that nobody notices." He swept out of the room.

"Are you feeling OK, angel?" Asked Erik, walking over to her, a look of concern on his face.

"Just a bit nervous..." Erik lifted her chin.

"I know something that can fix that..."

-

With fifteen minutes until the curtain call, everyone had to try and remain calm and quiet due to the fact that the audience were taking their seats. Meg had to be calmed down by Byron backstage as she was hyperventilating madly. It was no secret that she was so nervous because this was her biggest role in a production yet.

Ten minutes to go, and the managers had one final word of encouragement to the performers.

"Everyone..." Began Firmin. "If I were to wish you luck it would be because I feel I need to..." He paused, and then gave them all a big smile. "...but if I thought that you needed luck for this then I would need professional help!" There was loud applause from the cast. Firmin and André went to take their normal box seats, and there were a few exchanges of luck between the cast.

With five minutes to go to curtain up, everybody took their places for act 1...

-

Erik was sitting in his normal seat in box five, he had asked Daroga if he would like to join him, but Daroga had said that it would cause a lot of suspicion.

Faust consisted of five acts, making it a very long opera indeed, and in every single act Erik could not spot one mistake at all. The Duet in act one between Mephistopheles and Faust was flawless. The finding of Byron Larogue was, in Erik's view, a gift to the Opera House. The first time Christine appeared was as a vision of Faust's, with her sitting at a spinning wheel, the orchestra started up a dramatic song as Faust signed his soul away to Mephistopheles, so he could look youthful and be with Margarita.

Act one seemed to have set a standard for the rest of the opera, because it seemed that each act after it had more effort and passion in it than the previous one. Meg Giry, who Erik could remember being so nervous earlier that day, out performed herself by a mile and gave the best performance that she had done in her entire life. It seemed that having a large role was not too much trouble at all for her.

However if anyone excelled the most, it was Christine, who seemed to be putting in so much effort and passion that the rest of the cast could not emulate her, no matter how hard they tried. She sang to her very best, and acted so brilliantly that it reduced several of the audience to tears. Her most emotive performance was in the church scene which concluded act four.

Margarita was centre stage kneeling before a font. She dipped her fingers in the water and formed a cross on her forehead and then she moved and knelt on another part of the stage and began to sing.

**Lord, deign to permit  
Your humble servant  
To kneel before you.**

A voice then rang out loudly from somewhere that couldn't be seen. It was Mephistopheles.

**No, you will not pray,  
No, you will not pray!  
Strike her with terror!  
Spirits of evil, hasten, all of you!**

All the way through the duet between Mephistopheles and Margarita the audience were on the edge of their seats, until finally the act came to an end.

**Be Damned! To Hell With You!**

Margarita then let out a high pitched scream, and the curtain fell. The audience were on their feet and clapping harder than they had at any other point during the opera and, with one act still to go, Erik felt that this would indeed be a night to remember.

The curtain rose once more for act five, and Mephistopheles and Faust walked onto the stage.

"Where are you taking me?" Asked Faust. "Where is she!? Where is..."

"Shhhhh." Hissed Mephistopheles. "The mountains contain more that just rock my friend..."

There was a flash of light and a bang like a gunshot, which made several members of the audience jump, and both of them were surrounded by witches. They began to sing the song 'Un, deux et trois', in their cold, high pitched voices, cursing Faust to hell and damnation. Faust tried to run but Mephistopheles led him away. The backdrop changed to the setting of a cave, in the far corner of which was Margarita.

"My love!" Cried Faust, he tried to free her from the cell she was locked in, with no success.

"I believe you may need this." Said Mephistopheles, holding up a silver key. Faust seized it and released her from her cell. She was asleep but woke up when she heard Faust. Both of them then sang the love duet 'Oui, c'est toi que j'aime', which reduced most of the audience to tears. Erik was sure that he saw Daroga wipe his eyes at one point.

"Margarita..." Began Faust. "Run away with me, leave this life behind..."

"Faust..." She replied, looking up into his eyes.

"NO!" Cried Mephistopheles. "Come with me, both of you, you can stay young and youthful together forever." He was positively begging the two of them, but Margarita wasn't fooled.

"Or serve in hell forever, you DEVIL!" Cried Margarita.

Mephistopheles then started to mutter a deadly curse and Faust dropped to his knees in prayer, head bowed.

"Go back to the fiery pits from whence you came." Shouted Margarita. She then closed her eyes and put her hands together as if praying. There was a flash of white light, a terrible scream from Mephistopheles and her voice spoke out once more. "See you in heaven my love..."

The light died... When Faust looked up, both Margarita and Mephistopheles had gone. The Chorus then struck up the final song 'Christ est ressuscite' telling Faust that she had indeed gone to heaven and Mephistopheles back to hell. The curtain then fell when the chorus had ended, and Faust was over...

The Audience clapped harder than ever, shouting out things such as 'brava' and 'excellent'. Back stage, Meg was positively singing with delight that she had remembered all of her lines and Firmin looked ready to kiss the entire cast, but didn't seem to have time, as he and André then walked out to centre stage, signalled for the rest of the cast to do the same, then signalled for the curtain to rise once more.

The applause still continued unabated. As it rose, Firmin gestured for the cast to give a bow, several flowers were thrown onto the stage and Meg even heard her name called out from the crowd.

Firmin raised his hand for silence, which took a short time considering the size of the audience. "Thank you all for coming tonight, I hope you enjoyed watching these splendid performers..." There was more loud applause. "Especially our new leading man Monsieur Byron Larogue." The applause continued.

"But..." Called André. "We have to consider everybody involved with this production, such as our stage managers." He signalled for them to come out onto the stage, there was even more loud applause from the audience.

"Our Ballet instructor, Antoinette Giry!" Cried Firmin, there was still more loud applause from both the audience and the cast as she walked out onto the stage.

"And of course..." Boomed André. "...Our fantastic Orchestra!" Reyer turned round to face the audience, giving them all a very nervous smile, and the musicians made their way onto the stage. Erik applauded along with the rest of the audience.

"And now it is time to tell you the reason for getting you all here on stage." Began Firmin. "As well as to congratulate you all on the amazing work that you have done to make this production possible, there is a surprise for everyone here."

There was a lot of curious muttering from both the cast and the audience. Even Erik did not have a clue what the managers were talking about, and after all, he was supposed to know everything that went on inside the Opera House.

The managers seemed to be admiring the tension just as they had done when announcing that they would be performing Faust.

"So... just to add to the surprise let's wait another minute before we tell you." Joked André, there was a groan from the audience, which seemed to delight the managers even more. The audience and the cast started to mutter to each other.

"What do you think this is all about?" Whispered Meg to both Christine and Byron.

"I don't know..." Replied Christine and Byron at the same time.

Christine looked up at box five and could just about make out the expression on Erik's face. It was clear that he too did not have a clue what the managers had in mind.

_What are you planning my dear managers? What have you tried so hard to keep from me and succeeded?_ If this was anything that he didn't like then he would have to talk some sense back into them both.

"It is our great pleasure..." Shouted Firmin. "...to introduce to you our new patrons of the Opera Populaire!" There was a huge round of applause as a man and a woman walked out into centre stage, smiling at the applause from the cast and the audience.

Erik however, did not applaud. It was the last thing he had in mind and yet it wasn't because the managers had done something without his say so or his knowing. It wasn't even because they had gone and found two patrons for the Opera Populaire. He just sat there, stunned, not daring to believe what it was that he was seeing.

Christine was looking at Erik the whole time and yet could not work out what he was thinking. Yes, the managers had done something without him knowing.

_But surely this isn't a bad thing... it will help with funding for productions. Surely he must be able to see that..._

"Where are my manners?" Joked André, looking at the patrons, who smiled politely back at him, André chuckled slightly. "Quieten down please. You need to know who they are." The audience laughed at the joke like tone that André had said these words in. Then eventually fell silent. "It gives me great pleasure to introduce Monsieur Ivan and Madame Catherine Beaumont!"

Christine looked over at Zurie at the word 'Beaumont'. She could just about lip read the words 'Father and Step-Mother.' Then she looked back up at box five...

Erik looked ready to kill. His eyes were burning and he was clutching the arms of the chair so hard that he thought they might break. Breathing very heavily he finally managed to whisper two words over the applause. "Hello Mother..."


	26. Family Reunion

Chapter 26- Family Reunion

There was no mistaking it. Even from box five Erik could recognize that the woman who was standing centre stage was indeed his mother. The woman who had given him away to the circus and had made his life hell. It sickened him to see her standing there, smiling...

"Thank you very much Monsieur André." She said loudly. The words rang through Erik's ears worse than Carlotta's singing used to. "And may I say that we are deeply honoured to be supporting the world renowned Opera Populaire."

The audience burst into applause again, as did most of the cast. Christine, however, was still looking transfixed at Erik. She had never seen him look so angry ever before. Eventually the audience settled down.

"And now..." Began Firmin. "... We must bid you farewell. We look forward to seeing you all at our next production but until then, good night."

The curtains closed again, blocking Erik from Christine's view. There was an immediate rush by the cast, orchestra and stage managers to go and meet the new patrons.

"Delighted to meet you sir, absolutely delighted." Came Larogue's voice from the direction of Ivan.

"Good to have you join the team." Came Meg's voice from the direction of Catherine.

Christine didn't feel much like meeting them. She had to go and see Erik. Whatever it was that had made him so angry couldn't possibly result in anything good. It took Christine a good few minutes to get free of the crowd but eventually she managed to make her way to the corridor leading back to her room.

Christine felt something leap up onto her shoulder. Turning her head, she saw Porsche, who had a letter clutched in her mouth. She took out the letter, opened it, and began to read.

_Christine_

_Meet me in my home... something unexpected... can't explain it to you in a letter._

_Erik_

The parchment it was written on had been torn in several places. As if he had pressed the quill down on it so hard that it had punctured it. Also, it was extremely difficult to read, it looked as if it had taken under ten seconds to write, like a child's scrawl.

As the letter had instructed, Christine made her way back to her room, Porsche at her side. She entered it, locked the door, and went to open the large mirror. Porsche immediately ran down the passageway as soon as it was opened. Christine stepped through, and then tried to light the torches.

It took her about five attempts before they at last ignited. Not wasting any more time, she ran down the passageway, careful to look out for wet patches on the floor. She soon reached the lift.

Taking a firm hold on the railings she kicked the mechanism into action. She was in such a rush that she wasn't even frightened of it anymore. It slowed to a halt as it reached the bottom and Christine got off at once, making her way as fast as possible to the boat.

Reaching Erik's home a short while later, Christine found Porsche waiting for her arrival. From within the lair however, Christine could hear a terrible tune being played on the pipe organ. It was so loud that she was sure that people up in the Opera House would hear it.

She made her way to the music room, Porsche at her heels, and sure enough, found Erik sitting at the Organ, bashing the keys, it seemed, with all his might.

"ERIK!" She shouted, though her voice was drowned out by the volume of the organ. "ERIK" She shouted, as loudly as she could. This made no difference however. Porsche, losing all patience with her master, strode up to the organ and jumped on the keys. To both Porsche and Christine's surprise however, this did nothing. He continued to play the horrific tune.

Christine then strode up behind him, seized his two hands, and pulled them as hard as she could away from the keys. He did not try to resume playing after that.

"Erik?" She said, softly. His breathing was very heavy and ragged, which worried Christine even more. "Erik, what's wrong?"

Without warning, he pulled his hands out of Christine's grasp and slammed down on the keys, causing Porsche to jump and hiss indignantly. Then his hands clutched the sides of the Organ for support as he began to shake uncontrollably. He leant his face over the keys, and began gasping for air.

Christine was now at a total loss for what to do. All she could do was try to calm him down. She started to massage his shoulders gently, which seemed to help him gain control of his breathing, and eventually, he stopped shaking.

"Erik what is it, what's wrong?" Erik turned his face to look at Christine's. the look in his eyes was one of both great sorrow and rage.

"...new patrons..." He whispered, tears starting to stream down his face. Christine removed his mask for him as she was sure it could not be comfortable with him in this state.

"What's wrong with them?" She asked gently. The rage seemed to be overcoming the sorrow in his eyes, which Christine noticed. She took his face in her hands and began to rub it gently and he began to look calmer.

"Not both of them..." He began."...only...her!"

Christine looked startled. She could not think why Erik would get so upset because Zurie's step-mother had become a patron.

"Do you... have something against Zurie or something?" She asked, confused.

"ZURIE!?" He shouted. "What does she have to do with it?"

Now she was at a total loss. She could not see any other reason why Erik would get so upset. Come to think of it, she never thought Erik could get this upset. He always seemed to kill somebody before he had time to get upset.

"Well, the patrons are her father and step-mother." Erik closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the floor.

"I thought my nightmare had passed." Tears were still streaming freely down his face. "Why can't I just forget?"

"Erik, you are going to have to tell me what this is all about for me to be able to help you... A problem shared is a problem halved..."

Erik opened his eyes and looked up into Christine's. He knew that she was right of course. He took a deep breath, and then said, very slowly. "Well... let's just say..." He gulped. "It's... She's... my mother..."

This hadn't been what Christine was expecting. For a moment, she didn't believe it, but then realised that Erik would not lie to her about something as serious as this. Porsche leapt up onto Erik's lap, and started to 'mew' softly, as though she had understood every word that had been said. Erik smiled down at the cat.

"Well... that's two who aren't afraid of my face..." He said quietly scratching her chin. "Off you go girl, I'll get you some food in a minute." Porsche jumped off his lap, and made her way to the kitchen.

"Erik..." Christine could not think of what to say. What was there to say? "Are you sure it's her...?"

"Positive." He replied.

For a long time they just sat there, silent, neither of them knowing what to say to the other. Erik had finally stopped crying. Telling Christine about this had indeed resulted in a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"Come on..." He said finally. "...that fat cat must be getting hungry."

They got up and walked into the kitchen, hand in hand. Christine did not want to press the matter at hand. She felt that not mentioning it would probably be the best thing, as it would allow Erik to deal with it at his own pace.

Erik began to make the two of them some soup. However Christine could tell that his heart was only half in it. It was very cold, and when Erik constantly missed the bowl with his spoon when he tried to eat some. In fact, Porsche ended up having almost all of Erik's, which worried Christine even more.

"I'm going to go and compose some of my 'Don Juan'." He said, in a very mournful voice.

"OK." With that he got up and left, Christine thought that he looked rather weak.

She had not heard much about Catherine Destler apart from what Erik had told her. That, however, was enough for Christine to know that she would do anything for money. After all, if she would sell her own son to the circus, then marrying somebody for money must have been easy.

Christine had decided that she would go and talk to Zurie, so as to find out about how her father and 'mother' had met. She decided not to do that right now though, in case Erik needed her. She was afraid that he might have a breakdown.

'Meow' Porsche leapt up onto Christine's lap, nuzzling her head against her stomach.

Christine let out a sigh. "We are going to have to keep a close eye on him kitty..."

Porsche purred, which Christine took for an 'I agree'. It had always mystified Christine how a cat could be so intelligent. She hadn't seen many in her life, but she was willing to bet that hardly any of them acted like Porsche.

Christine could hear the sound of Erik playing the piano in the music room. She recognised the piece immediately as 'Point of No Return' and yet it wasn't played how she remembered it. Erik was not singing, there were notes that sounded wrong, and the piece just seemed so... lifeless.

Several minutes passed, until silence came. For a few moments both Christine and Porsche sat stock still, until...

CRASH

Porsche leapt off Christine at once and made her way to the music room. Christine was not far behind her. They entered the room, but Erik was not there. The stool of the piano was on its side, and the lid of the grand piano itself had closed and left a split down the middle.

Porsche had darted into the dock like area, and again Christine followed. She got there just in time to see Erik pass under the large portcullis in the boat.

"Where are you going?" She called after him.

"Where do you think...!?" He began. "... to see my mother of course!"

The portcullis closed, and Christine was left stranded in his lair with Porsche...

_Or am I stranded?_ She thought to herself.

She looked down at the cat, who looked back up at her with blank eyes. "I need you to show me the passageway that leads to the **managers' office**." She said the last two words very clearly.

As expected, the cat trotted out of the room and through his lair. Christine was not expecting, however, to end up right outside the Oubliette. The cat tapped a tile at the foot of the door. Christine remembered that this was where the key was kept. Moving the tile aside however, she did not see a key, but a note.

_Christine_

_I am sorry, but this is something that I must do on my own, but don't worry, I haven't forgotten the promise that I made to you, and I don't intend to break it._

_Erik_

"Any other way out?" She asked Porsche.

The cat 'Meowed' quietly, and Christine took that as a no, but that couldn't be right. Christine thought there must be at least four exits, according to what Erik had said.

_He would have made sure you couldn't get out of them either... _She gave a loud cry of frustration then thought desperately. She couldn't just sit there. She had to do something...

-

"Well, tonight's performance couldn't have gone better I think." Exclaimed Firmin.

"Marvellous, marvellous... Everybody really did give it their all didn't they?" Agreed André.

"I have come to several performances here before messieurs's, but none have been as grand as that one!" Chirped in Ivan Beaumont.

Catherine Beaumont was sitting at the manager's desk while the three men were chatting merrily, each holding a glass of rosé wine. She was just studying the pictures on the wall, when her eyes did a double take.

_Did the eyes in that portrait just move?_ No, she was being silly. Portraits eyes stayed still, as they should do.

"So, what about the infamous 'Opera Ghost', who is said to live here?" Came Ivan's voice.

"Oh, a load of rubbish." Said André, then he realised what he had said. "... well, one could argue that it is not a ghost, as ghosts aren't supposed to be able to do the things that are said to be done by the 'Opera Ghost'.

Catherine snorted. "Are you telling us that this ghost does exist?"

_No point lying to them..._ Thought Firmin.

"There is definitely somebody in the Opera house who calls himself 'The Phantom Of The Opera'..." He waited with baited breath to see how they would react to this.

To his great surprise, the two of them burst out laughing. Then he caught sight of the wine bottles and noticed that one was completely drained and the other half gone.

"You won't be laughing long mother... I promise you..." Erik whispered to himself, surveying the scene.

He raised his Punjab lasso... then paused. He had said to Christine in the letter that he was not going to kill her... but could he really keep his promise?

At that moment, the door of the managers' office flung open, and Madame Giry came in through it.

"Pardon the intrusion..." She began, but she was cut off by Ivan.

"Antoinette! My daughter has told me all about you. She says you are a great teacher!"

"Thank you Monsieur..." Then she turned to face the managers. "... messieurs, I need a word with you in private please." She gave them a very meaningful look here.

"Ah yes of course..." Began Firmin. "... We will see you tomorrow shall we, and you can take a better look round the Populaire." He said to the Beaumonts.

"Of course." Replied Catherine. "We will return at around 9 o'clock. Au reviour."

The managers bowed them out of the office and then turned to look at Madame Giry.

"What is the meaning of this Antoinette!?" Asked André in a panicked whisper.

"It was necessary messieurs, for their protection..." She answered.

"From what?" Inquired Firmin, already knowing the answer.

"The Opera Ghost."

Erik pocketed his lasso and then felt ashamed with himself. If Madame Giry did not enter at that precise moment, then he surely would have killed Catherine.

_What would Christine think of me then? _

Finding his voice, he finally spoke up. "Indeed... in future my managers if you are going to make any decisions like that, you will run them past me first." André and Firmin, who were so used to this disembodied voice now, did not even jump when they heard it. "Now, please leave, I need a little word with Antoinette."

They did not need to be told twice. They hurried over to the door and left. Madame Giry locked the door behind them and, when she turned round, Erik was standing in front of her.

"Why did you do that?" He asked, surprisingly calm.

Madame Giry did not answer, but instead, reached into her pocket and pulled out a sheet of parchment and then handed it to Erik.

_Madame Giry._

_I Hope this note reaches you in time. You must get the Patrons out of the Opera house, they are in danger, can't explain now, just get them out as quickly as possible._

_Christine._

"How did you know it was me they were endangered by?" He asked curiously.

"Call it an educated guess..." Erik thought that she seemed rather mad with him for some reason. "... and I thought that I told you to keep that bloody cat away from me!"

_So that's how she got it..._

"I'm sorry..." He said.

"Never mind about that. What were you planning to do?" She asked looking very stern.

Erik told her everything, about how Catherine was his mother, how he had locked Christine in his lair and about how he was planning to kill that evil woman.

"But how can you be certain it is her? You haven't seen the woman for decades."

"I just know." He replied bluntly. "I will know for certain soon enough. I have a plan..."

"Erik...?" Madame Giry looked very worried at the sound of the word, 'plan'.

"Don't worry, it's nothing violent..." He said, in a very annoyed tone.

"It's not me you should be telling that." Erik couldn't help but think that she sounded a bit bossy.

"I know. I'll go back home and explain everything to Christine... Where's Porsche?" The thought of his cat had only just occurred to him.

"Gone back to Christine, I think." She looked terrified at the very thought of the cat.

With that, Erik bade her farewell, and headed back down to his lair.

-

"Did she get it?" Christine asked Porsche. The cat, to her surprise, gave a small nod. "Good, now we have to hope that she got them out in time..."

Christine and Porsche were in the music room. She was stroking Porsche absent-mindedly, when she noticed a folder on top of the piano. Picking it up, she noticed that it was Erik's 'Don Juan Triumphant'.

_Should I have a look...? I mean he isn't around. _She reached over to untie the binder, then stopped. Erik would show her his masterpiece when he was ready.

There was a 'thud' in the distance. It seemed that Erik had at last returned, and sure enough, a few moments later, Erik walked through the door into the music room. Christine suddenly noticed that she was still holding the folder and put it down just in time for him not to notice.

After a few moments silence, he spoke. "That was a very good plan of yours..."

"Erik... did you...?"

"No." He said, before she could finish. He felt guilty at the thought that he was going to however. "But I was about to..."


	27. She's Like The Swallow

Chapter 27- She's Like The Swallow

Erik wasn't sure how Christine would react to this. To his great surprise, however, she walked up to him and wrapped her arms round his waist.

"The important thing is that you didn't." She whispered. "...You didn't kill, just like you promised."

Erik felt a slight twinge of guilt about Massort.

_But if I didn't kill him then he would have killed Christine..._ He wondered if he should tell her about this... but thought better of it What she didn't know couldn't hurt her.

They stood there for a few moments, holding each other, neither feeling the need to speak. When they finally let go of each other, Erik spoke.

"What was it you were saying about Zurie earlier?" The thought that he was somehow related to the young ballet girl intrigued him.

"Oh... Catherine is her step mother." Replied Christine. She was glad that Erik seemed to be back to his usual self.

So he wasn't properly related to her, only by marriage.

_Never the less, I can find out how she came to be with this 'Ivan'._

Christine gave a huge yawn. It seemed like days rather than hours since the performance of Faust. Erik smiled down at her.

"Tired my love?" Christine looked up at him with a very sleepy expression.

"Sort of..." She gave another yawn. "...from the performance and everything." Erik felt yet another twinge of guilt.

Erik did not exactly feel tired but thought that it was best to sleep. Maybe sleeping on the situation would help somewhat. They both went to bed. Christine seemed to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow but Erik stayed awake thinking...

_You had better know what you're doing, Erik..._

-

Firmin and André were in their office, both looking very tired, and very hung over.

"We better start looking for a new opera..." Croaked André, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, god, do we have to? Can't we wait a while..." Replied Firmin in a very hoarse whisper, a glass of water clutched in his right hand, which he took a sip from with what appeared to be great difficulty.

"I suppose we could." André looked over at Firmin with very bloodshot eyes. "God I feel terrible... And we didn't even have that much... What was the date on that wine?"

Firmin picked up one of the empty bottles. "1810." André gave a loud groan. That would explain why it didn't take much to get them hung over

There was then a knock on the door. The two managers tried to compose themselves and look as though everything was normal. The door opened, and Ivan Beaumont walked in.

"Good morning." He said in a very jolly voice. André was surprised at how healthy he looked considering the amount of wine that he had drunk the previous night.

"Oh please don't shout..." Came Firmin's voice. Then he began to rub his head, and he tried to take another sip of his drink. Ivan looked a bit concerned at this and then pulled out a bottle from his inside coat pocket.

"Here, drink this, you'll feel better." Without question Firmin drank from the bottle. The effect was almost immediate. His head felt much clearer and then he handed the bottle over to André, who nearly downed the rest of it in a matter of swallows. They both turned to face Ivan.

"Thank you Monsieur... far too much wine." Firmin started to busy himself with a load of papers and documents on his desk. "What time is it?"

Ivan squinted down at his watch. "It is a quarter past nine Monsieur Firmin" He replied once again in a very jolly voice.

"Very good..." André chimed and then he looked around the room, as if finally noticing something. "... where is Catherine my dear Ivan?"

"Oh, she's gone to explore more of the Opera house. She is very curious... like a cat." Both Firmin and André chuckled at this.

"I don't suppose you could think of an opera we could put on for our next production. Could you Ivan?" Asked Firmin.

Ivan looked a bit shocked at this question. As though he thought that Firmin must still be a bit hung over.

"Isn't it a little early to be thinking about such matters Monsieur Firmin?" It was after all, only the morning after the first performance of Faust, so they must have loads of time before they need to start rehearsals for another production.

"It's never too early. It would be much better to decide know now so that we don't have to think about it later." Ivan could just about see the logic in his thinking, but still thought that it was unnecessary to think about it at the moment. Taking your time over a decision was always better than rushing into a decision in his opinion.

-

Catherine was in the main theatre, watching the set of Faust being tidied up for the next performance. She had enjoyed the production very much, but could not help thinking about what had been discussed the previous night, about 'The Phantom of the Opera'.

_Probably some raving lunatic who has nothing better to do with his life._ She thought. After all, you always did get the occasional mad-man wherever you went, and she did not think that this one would be any different from any other.

Getting bored of watching the stage managers, she left to explore the opera house some more. It was a very big place, much bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside. Several times she got lost and had to ask people like the cleaners for directions, which didn't usually help, as they gave very long instructions on where to go, which confused Catherine even more and usually resulted in her getting even more thoroughly lost than she had been previously.

After asking yet another person who seemed to be a ballet girl, for directions, she decided to give up all hope of finding her way for the moment and decided to just wander aimlessly in the hope that she would end up somewhere that she recognised.

After wandering around for about half an hour, she came to a door marked 'rooftop', that seemed like an interesting place to go. She opened the door, feeling surprised that it wasn't locked, and headed up the stairs. They went on for much further than she expected but finally she reached the top. Opening the door, she walked out into the brilliant morning sunshine.

She could see much of Paris from the rooftop. She had forgotten how very tall the building was. Then, something happened which took Catherine completely by surprise. She could hear the sound of a violin being played. The musician must have been very talented for the sound was very clean and clear. Catherine wasn't sure why, but the song sounded somewhat... familiar.

She looked round the rooftop for the source of the music but could not find it anywhere and still she had the feeling that she knew the song. The violin player never stopped. He continued to play this mystifying music. Then, the violinist started to sing and Catherine knew at once where she had heard the song before...

-

_Catherine had been very secretive over the past few months towards her lover, Pierrick. She could not even begin to try and explain to him that she was pregnant. If he ever found out then he would leave her for sure. After all, it was a sin for two people to have a child of their own if they were not married._

"_My love...?" Began Pierrick. "...tell me what is wrong, my love?" He had been deeply concerned about her these past few months. He just wanted her to know that he cared._

"_It is nothing my love, really..." She replied, though Pierrick could tell that she was lying. He could always tell._

"_If you are sure sweetheart." He did not want to press the matter. If she did not want to tell him, then that was her choice, not his._

_Catherine continued to look tearful, so Pierrick pulled her in close to him, and embraced her with a passionate kiss._

_When they finally broke apart, Catherine rested her head on Pierrick's shoulder and closed her eyes. "Sing to me Pierrick.."_

_If it would cheer her up then anything was worth a try. He took a deep breath and began to sing softly._

**She's like The Swallow that Flies so High**

**She's like the river that never runs dry.**

**She's like the sunshine on the lee shore,**

**She loves her love but she'll love no more.**

_Catherine smiled, and cuddled up closer to Pierrick._

**It's out in the garden this fair maid did go,**

**A-plucking the beautiful prim-a-rose.**

**The more she plucked, the more she pulled,**

**Until she got her apron full.**

_The song seemed to ease Catherine somewhat, and Pierrick could tell that she was getting tired, and would soon drift off to sleep._

**It's out of these roses she made a bed,**

**A stone, a pillow for her head,**

**She laid her down, no word she spoke,**

**Alas, for love, her heart was broke.**

_Catherine had drifted off to sleep but Pierrick still continued to sing..._

**She's like the swallow that flies so high,**

**She's like the river that never runs dry.**

**She's like the sunshine on the lee shore,**

-

**I love my love, and love is no more.**

"STOP!" Catherine shouted, panicking. "STOP IT!" The violin did not stop. It continued to play. Catherine looked round wildly for the singer, but still he would not show himself.

Catherine sank to her knees in tears, the memory of Pierrick still haunting her. He was dead. He had died of a heart condition, and he wasn't coming back.

Erik smiled to himself. There was the proof. She was definitely his mother. He continued to play the violin, watching Catherine sob uncontrollably on the floor. "Pathetic." He whispered to himself.

_You shouldn't have told me about that song, should you? My dear sweet mother. Shouldn't have sung me to sleep with it..._

Then suddenly, Catherine got up, and bolted over to the door.

_Oh no you don't._ Thought Erik. As she drew near to it, it closed. She tried to open it, but it had somehow locked._ You made my life hell. It's only fair now that I return the favour._

Catherine was breathing very heavily. "WHO ARE YOU?" She shouted. The violin continued to play and she looked around desperately. "WHERE ARE YOU?" She positively screamed so loudly that people down in the street were starting to wonder what was going on up on the roof of the Populaire.

The violin stopped, and Catherine could hear footsteps approaching her. She started to hyperventilate, looking madly in all directions for someone...anyone.

The sound of the footsteps died and there was silence for a few seconds...

"Here..." Erik whispered in her left ear. Catherine wheeled around, but saw no-one. Who could this person be? Or what could this thing be?

_I must be going mad. _She thought.

"As for who I am..." She wheeled around again, whoever this was, was like a ghost. "... I'll leave you to figure that one out yourself."

Catherine was shaking uncontrollably, extremely frightened, not knowing what to do. She couldn't run for it, the door was locked...

Suddenly, somebody seized her by the neck with one hand, and grabbed her right hand tightly with the other. She felt her fingers being prized open. Something was put in her hand and then her fingers were shut again tightly. Catherine winced in pain. Whatever it was, was very sharp and cutting into her hand.

Erik let go, and before Catherine could turn around to face him, he was gone. Her hand had started to bleed freely. Looking at it, she saw that clutched in her hand was a blood red rose. The violin started up again...

**It's out in the garden this fair maid did go,**

**A-plucking the beautiful prim-a-rose.**

**The more she plucked, the more she pulled,**

**Until she got her apron full.**

Then it stopped, and the door leading back to the Opera house opened.

"Go on..." began Erik. "... run. Call for help." Catherine did not hesitate. She ran over to the door and sprinted down the stairs as fast as she could. She did not have a clue where she was going but she didn't care. All she wanted to do was put as much distance between her and the roof as possible.

She stopped to catch her breath and then leant against the wall. "Catherine?" She jumped at the sound of the voice. Looking round however, she saw that it was one of the managers.

"Monsieur Firmin!" She cried. Firmin looked worried.

"What is wrong my dear?" Catherine did not answer immediately. But then Firmin spotted the rose still clutched in her right hand. "Where did you get that?" He asked sharply.

"...It doesn't matter." She replied, knowing full well that it did matter. Firmin walked over to her and seized her hand. His eyes widened at the sight of what was clutched in it.

"Come with me my dear..." He began. "...Ivan is in my office. There is something that both of you should know..."

With that, Firmin turned and walked in the direction of his office with Catherine close behind him, not wanting to be left alone.

-

"Zurie!" Zurie looked round to see Christine rushing up to her.

"Bonjour Miss Daae." She said merrily. Christine finally reached her.

"I just wanted to say congratulations about your parents becoming the patrons." This wasn't really why she had come to speak to her, but she couldn't just say 'tell me about your mother'.

"I know, isn't it wonderful? It's thanks to them that I was able to come and train to be a dancer here." She beamed widely, looking up at Christine.

"You are very lucky to have such kind parents." Christine said.

"Yes, I am grateful for it. When my real mother died, I thought my life was over but father kept his head up high..." Christine was listening intently. This was what she was hoping would happen.

"How did he meet Catherine?" She asked, hoping that it sounded like a throw away sort of question.

"Oh, that's a funny story..." She began. Christine thought that it would be anything but funny if it was about Erik's mother. "...they met out on the streets. Mother had been looking for a job, with no success, and walked straight into him..." Christine gave a false laugh. "...I'm not really sure what happened then. They don't talk about it much, but they have been together ever since..."

"Oh really?" Said Christine, looking at Zurie. "...What did your mother do before she met Ivan then?" Christine thought that she sounded a bit too suspicious here but Zurie didn't seem to notice anything. In fact, she looked stumped at the question.

"I... I don't know. She's never said. You'd have to ask her yourself." Christine could not say that she was surprised at the answer. After all, you wouldn't talk about your past if it involved giving your only child away to the circus.

"I will at some point." Christine said casually. "But I only really came here to congratulate you. I didn't mean to keep you from anything."

"Don't worry miss, I was not planning on doing anything anyway, with the performance over, there really isn't much to do at the moment." She looked slightly sad. "... I know we do complain about rehearsals but it is enjoyable really, otherwise why would we do it?"

"You are a very sweet girl Zurie..." Said Christine. "...I'll see you at dinner."

"Yes, see you then. Is there a lesson tonight?"

"Of course." She replied.

"Good, aur revoir Christine." She turned and left, leaving Christine standing there alone.

Christine then heard a faint tapping noise coming from her right. She looked round and saw nothing, but then spotted a note on the floor. She picked it up at once.

_Christine._

_It is definitely her, no doubt about it now. I'll see you after your lesson with Zurie_

_Erik._

So he had been listening. Christine didn't mind. It meant that he heard it straight from Zurie's mouth rather than Christine's.

-

"Ouch." Catherine winced as she had salt pressed into her hand.

"Sorry, but this will help it heal quicker." Apologised André. He then tied a bandage round her hand to cover up the cuts.

"What is this all about?" Boomed Ivan from the corner of the managers' office. He looked like he was about to explode in anger.

"Do you remember anything that was said last night?" Asked Firmin. "About the Opera Ghost."

"Yes..." Said Catherine quietly. "... You said that there was reason to believe that he did exist or something like that..."

"That's right." Said André, nodding. "How much do you know about him?"

Both Ivan and Catherine looked confused at this question.

"I'll take it that your silence means 'nothing'" Began Firmin. "... Well, nobody does know much about him, only that he can be extremely dangerous."

Catherine looked over at him. "Are you suggesting that it was this 'Ghost' who did this to me?" She held up her hand.

"Madame..." He looked very concerned. "... Joseph Bouquet, one of our former stage managers, used to spread rumours about the 'Phantom of the Opera' and then one day..." He paused, took a deep breath and then said. "... he was found dead with cuts to the wrists and throat, and the one thing that was found along with the body... was a rose."

Ivan gasped, but Catherine was intrigued by this revelation. "What were the rumours about?" She asked curiously, picking up a glass of water.

"Oh..." Said André. "... skin like parchment, no nose..." He then paused and looked as if he was considering something. "... and one thing that we are almost certain of is that he wears a white mask on one side of his face."

Catherine dropped the glass she was holding, which shattered on the floor.

"No..." She whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "It can't be..."


	28. Fear and Loathing

Chapter 28- Fear and Loathing.

Catherine was sitting at the top of the Grand Staircase in the entrance hall. A week had passed since she had encountered 'The Phantom of the Opera', and since then, she had been able to think of nothing but what Monsieur André had said. '... and one thing that we are almost certain of, is that he wears a white mask on one side of his face.'

_But surely he must be dead by now._ Catherine thought to herself. It was true that so many years had passed since she had sold him to the circus, and the chances of him surviving that long were tiny. _Ah, but there was still is a chance..._

There was no real way for her to tell unless she saw this 'Phantom' face to face but how could she do that? She checked the clock on the far wall to see what the time was. It read quarter to twelve.

"Mother...?" Catherine jumped. Looking round she saw Zurie walking towards her. "...are you alright?"

"I'm..." She wanted to say 'fine', but thought that that would be a bit of a fools answer. "...great, just thinking that's all, you know me..."

Zurie gave a weak smile. "Well, if you are sure you're OK. It's just... you've been acting very..." She paused to search for the right word. "...strangely."

Zurie expected her mother to be angry at her for saying this but was surprised as she looked over at Zurie and gave her a questioning look.

"What do you mean, 'strangely'?" Of course she knew what Zurie meant by this but did not want her to know that.

"Well, maybe 'strangely' wasn't the right word. You're acting more... paranoid." Catherine opened her mouth to say something back to this but Zurie cut her off before she had the chance. "...look at it from my point of view. Every time you turn a corner you always peak your head round it first. You are constantly looking behind you, and whenever someone talks to you that you can't see immediately you jump!"

Catherine could not see any way of getting out of this one. Maybe she was being a bit paranoid. This 'Ghost' had done what they wanted, why would they feel the need to do anything else.

_If it is him, then that's obvious._

Zurie could tell that she wasn't going to get anywhere. "I'll see you at lunch." She got up and left, leaving Catherine sitting there on her own.

Zurie thought that her father might know why Catherine was acting so strangely. There was no point going to look for him however, as he would be at lunch along with everyone else.

_What could be so bad that she would want to keep it from me...?_

-

"Erik I've just thought..." Began Christine, taking a sip of the tea that Erik had made for the two of them. "...If only three people knew that Catherine used that song to sing you to sleep, and one of them is dead, then doesn't that mean that she could know that the 'Phantom' is you?"

"That's right." He replied, taking a sip out of his tea as well. "But does that really matter?"

Christine thought that this was a bit of a stupid question. "Well, yes..."

Erik smiled at Christine's certainty. "Why?"

Christine thought for a moment. Come to think of it. Why **did** it matter if she knew it was him? "Well because, the managers and everyone will know that you are not really a ghost and may not listen to you."

Erik chuckled. "I think that my managers will be wise enough to know that I am just as dangerous even if I am not a ghost, and besides..." He placed his cup down on the table in front of him. "...I can't imagine that my dear old mother would actually tell anyone. Think about it. It would lead to a lot of awkward questions about **how** she knows who I am."

Christine understood what Erik was saying, and gave him a small nod to let him know this. Finishing their tea, they got up, and Erik went to the music room.

"So... what is 'Don Juan' about?" She said, as Erik opened up the folder, took out a half finished score and examined it.

"As I said, I'll tell you when it's finished. By then I might have some idea myself..." He gave Christine a small wink.

Christine could tell he was joking about not knowing what it was about, but decided not to press the matter. If he wanted to finish his masterpiece first then she would let him. A sudden thought then came over Christine.

"What production is going to be put on next?" She had discussed this topic with Meg, though neither of them could think of what could possibly follow Faust.

Erik pondered his answer a moment, before answering. "...I think that everyone has earned a bit of a break after the last performance of 'Faust', and therefore the next production won't be decided for a while."

This disappointed Christine, she was hoping that they were going to start practising for the next production soon. This didn't matter too much, she could wait and in any case she had all of the other performances of 'Faust' to worry about. Maybe the break after that would do her some good.

Christine took to her normal hobby of reading while Erik was composing his 'Don Juan Triumphant', with Porsche as her company. Christine could hear that the notes on the piano sounded a bit muffled, but then he had cracked it just before he left to try and kill Catherine.

Porsche hopped onto Christine's lap and curled up. Christine had got tired of reading, and checked the clock on the far wall.

"Off you get Porsche. I do not want to be late for lunch." Porsche jumped off of her and walked out into the music room, returning with Erik.

"Leaving?" He asked, looking solemn.

"Yes, I don't want people to get suspicious or worry about where I am." She walked over to him and gave him a quick kiss, then whispered. "I love you." Before leaving.

-

For lunch, Christine sat with Meg and Byron as usual, Christine was very glad to see that Catherine was still in a very jumpy state. Something about her mood must have shown on her face, as Meg asked.

"What are you so cheery about?"

Christine answered her while looking at Zurie. "Oh, the food is just very tasty." Christine was expecting Meg to make a snide remark about her and Erik, but she didn't. It seemed that since she got together with Byron Meg had been less interested about Christine and Erik.

Christine couldn't help but think that Zurie looked a little worried about something. Hadn't her mother told her about what had happened to her on the roof? Christine supposed that Catherine wanted to try and avoid a lot of fuss about it for the moment.

Christine was just about to get up and leave, when she heard Zurie speak to Ivan. "What is wrong with mother?"

Christine busied herself with her cutlery so that she did not look like she was eavesdropping. " I can't tell you here. I'll speak to you after dinner." His voice sounded panicky. That could only mean that he did know about what had happened.

Thinking that the conversation was over, Christine got up and left. She was closely followed by Catherine however, who caught up with her just outside the dining room.

"Miss Daae, could I have a word with you?" Christine would have liked to say, 'No, go away', but could not immediately think of any other more polite excuse.

"Of course." She replied, in the most polite voice she could muster.

"Can we walk and talk?" Christine nodded, and followed Catherine.

Just before they left, Christine saw Zurie and Ivan leave the dining room. She could not quite hear them, but she could just about pick out one or two words like 'rose' and 'roof-top'.

They walked around for about 5 minutes to various different places. Catherine occasionally looked over her shoulder to see if there was anybody behind her. At last, she spoke to Christine.

"My daughter tells me that you have been giving her singing lessons..." Her voice was very quiet, as though she was afraid of anybody listening. Christine was certain that there probably was a certain someone listening.

"Yes... that's not a problem is it?" Christine tried as hard as possible to sound politely concerned.

"No, no, not at all, in fact I wanted to thank you." This wasn't at all what Christine was expecting and she did not really want to get that friendly with Catherine.

"It's nothing really." She said, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible. Catherine wouldn't allow that.

"She is lucky to be being taught by the amazing Prima Donna." Christine could see that Catherine was trying as hard as possible to get Christine on her good side. Christine was not going to have any of this however.

Losing all patience, she finally said in a very annoyed tone. "What is this really about?"

Catherine smiled, though it wasn't a nice friendly smile like she had used when being introduced. It was a smile of pure evil.

"I hear there was a murder here, a Joseph Bouquet, no?" Christine stared at her, wondering what this had to do with anything.

"Yes." Catherine's smile grew bigger.

"I also heard that he was very fond of you when he was alive." She sounded like she was mocking her with false concern.

"Just get to the point." Christine spat at her.

Catherine's smile grew even bigger. "OK..." She began. "... I find it rather funny, that the day after he tried to seduce you, he ends up dead..."

Christine stared at her.

_How can you know about that you witch!?_

If Christine was correct, only two people knew, and that was herself and Erik. "How...who...?"

Catherine gave a high, cold laugh. "Hahaha! My useless step-daughter it seems is not all that useless, stupid girl!"

_So, you love Zurie about as much as you loved Erik...?_ Christine clenched her fists in her pockets, staring very angrily into the eyes of this evil woman.

"Now... let's put the pieces together, shall we play detective?" Her face changed to an expression of mock-thought. "...Joseph Bouquet makes a drunken move on you...Joseph Bouquet ends up dead the next day... Joseph Bouquet appeared to be killed by 'The Phantom Of The Opera'."

Since she knew about Bouquet making a move on her, it would only take an idiot not to put the pieces together. Christine waited with baited breath for her to finish, but she simply smiled.

"So...?" Catherine chuckled at the sound of Christine's questioning tone.

"So...?" She imitated in a high, cold voice. "So Christine..."

"It's Miss Daae!" She spat at her before she could finish.

"Whatever... So Christine, you can tell Erik from me that this is **my** Opera house now, and if he wants to keep his miserable life for a little while longer..."

SLAP!

Christine's eyes were burning, she was breathing in short, sharp breaths. "Don't..." She began, looking like she was about to breathe fire. "...you...dare... say his life is miserable..."

Catherine looked back at Christine, her eyes wide with shock at what she had done. She recovered herself quickly though, rubbing the left side of her face.

"Hehehe..." She chuckled quietly. "... I think the managers may wonder why you did not tell them what you know about the 'Phantom'..."

"But then again..." Came a voice that echoed around the hall that they were standing in. "... they may be interested to know why you did not tell them that you are my mother..."

"Erik..." Whispered Christine, her heart lifting at the sound of his voice.

Catherine looked round to see where his voice was coming from. Her eyes were now full of fear, yet her voice sounded as strong and menacing as it did when she was talking to Christine.

"Why not come out where I can see you, son!?" Erik gave a cold laugh at these words.

"Why..." He began and then his voice changed as though he was talking to a baby. "...is mummy afraid of poor defenceless Erik...?" Christine laughed at this.

Catherine imitated his baby voice and said. "...is little Erik afraid that mummy is going to hurt him?" This stopped Christine's laughing, and caused her to glare at her in anger.

"Not at all..." Replied Erik, Catherine was still looking round desperately for his location. "...Erik is just going to tell you to keep your mouth shut...or else."

"Or else what!?" She shouted back.

All of a sudden, Erik's infamous punjab lasso dropped from the ceiling. Not around Catherine's neck, but just in front of her eyes so that she could see it.

"Or else I break you pretty little neck..." He said in a low, menacing voice.

Christine knew that Erik was bluffing and so she played along as best she could Erik's threat against Catherine.

"And then you'll just be another Joseph Bouquet..." She said, in the most menacing voice she could muster.

"So, for **your** safety, I suggest you leave **my** opera house..." Erik was in his element now. She could not possibly disobey him...

"Oh I don't think so..." Whispered Catherine. "...just because you, the circus freak, are still alive, doesn't mean that I am going to leave..."

This stunned Erik. It seemed that Catherine had not lost the stubbornness that she possessed when Erik was a child.

"The Circus freak, am I?" He said quietly. "Well mother, the circus freak does have his tricks. Does he not?"

The fear returned to Catherine's eyes. She did not know what was going to happen next, and did not particularly want to find out. All of a sudden there was a flash of white light, which momentarily blinded her. When she could see again, Christine was gone.

"Leave, and never return..." This sent a shiver up Catherine's spine.

-

Erik and Christine made their way back down to Erik's home. They had just got off the lift, when Christine had to ask Erik something.

"You were bluffing when you said about breaking her neck. Weren't you?" Erik did not answer immediately, then finally said...

"Only if she does not do anything too extreme, then I won't kill her... but if she goes to far..." He paused and looked into Christine's eyes. "...then I may have to. I hope you understand..."

"Let's just hope it does not come to that." She said quietly.

"You are going to have to have a word with Zurie about what she said..."

Christine nodded in agreement, but then said. "No, wait... you should have a word with her..."

Erik looked startled at this proposition. "What! Are you mad!?"

"No, I'm not! Think about it..." She was positively bouncing with delight. "...you are her brother...well...step-brother. Don't you think it is only fair that she knows that?"

Erik considered this for a moment. Yes, Zurie was his step-sister, but what would she do when she found out that she was related to the 'Opera Ghost'?

They got into the boat, Christine waiting expectantly for an answer. "But what if she..."

"I'll speak with her before she meets you." Cut in Christine, reassuringly.

Erik could see that he was not going to win this argument and so he nodded to say that he would talk to her. As soon as they got off the boat, Christine flung her arms round him.

"Thank you..." She whispered in his ear. They kissed passionately and then heard a 'meow'. They broke apart smiling. Porsche was at their heels looking for some attention.

"When should I talk to her?" Erik asked, picking up the cat.

"Whenever you feel you are ready." Answered Christine, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm, and stroking Porsche fondly. Christine yawned. "God I'm tired."

"Why are you telling him?" Said Erik slyly, this earned him a playful swat on the back of the head. "You should get some rest. You must need it after talking with my dear mother..."

Christine smiled and then made her way to Erik's room along with Porsche. Erik however, went to compose some of his 'Don Juan'.

She sighed. "Is there ever a time when he does not want to compose any of his 'Don Juan'?" She whispered to the cat, who curled up on the bed next to Christine, and gave a small 'meow'. "I didn't think so."

Christine felt her eyes begin to droop, the last thing she could remember hearing was the opening bars of 'Point of no Return', before drifting off into a peaceful sleep, Porsche at her side.

-

"God damn it." Catherine muttered to herself, sitting in the study of Ivan's house. She was scribbling on some parchment, ever so often crossing out different lines, and adding annotations to others.

Her encounter with Erik earlier that day had had the opposite effect of scaring her away from the Opera House. On the contrary, she now wanted to stay there more than ever.

_It would be stupid to tell on Christine though..._ She thought to herself, scribbling down more notes. _But I am not going to let that Devil's Child drive me away..._

"Curse you Erik!" She spat, still scribbling on the parchment.

When she had finally finished she picked up the parchment and looked at all that she had written. She muttered to herself incomprehensibly and then slammed it down on the table, shaking. She was not going to live in fear of that Circus freak, not as long as she lived.

"It is to be war between us Erik... And I am pretty sure that you are on the losing side..." With that, she opened the desk drawer, put the piece of Parchment inside, and locked it, stowing the key in her pocket. She then went to bed, no thoughts in her head except thoughts of how to stay in the Opera house, and get rid of her horrible son, Erik.


	29. Alone No More

Chapter 29- Alone No More

"And one...two...three...four...five...six...and point those toes!" It was yet another boring lesson with Madame Giry, even though there was no new production coming up, the ballet girls had to keep on form for the remaining performances of 'Faust'. "...and seven...eight...nine... legs straight!"

The lesson itself was not as bad as it could have been. Madame Giry had not made any more threats about the 'Phantom' coming to get them, and overall, she had not made too much criticism about their dancing abilities. Usually she would criticise every little thing she could think of. They all knew of course that she was doing this in their best interest, but they couldn't help but be annoyed with her when she pointed out things such as 'Stop breathing so heavily!'

"All right class, that is enough." The ballet girls sighed at the sound of these words, and went off to get changed.

"Is it just me... or does Madame Giry seem to be a little... stressed about something?" Asked one of the ballet girls.

"Yes... I mean she hasn't been as harsh to us as she usually is..." Said a girl called Clarissa.

Zurie had just finished getting changed. She too had noticed the change in Madame Giry's mood towards all of them. It seemed like she had her mind focused on something that definitely wasn't their ballet. Zurie did not much care for this however, she was worried about her own mother, if the 'Opera Ghost' had attacked her like that...

"What's up with you Zurie?" Zurie snapped back to reality. She had not noticed that most of the girls in the room had been staring at her.

"What?...Oh, nothing..." This did not seem to pass their test.

"Oh come on. Tell us. After all we are your friends."

Zurie tried to think up and excuse. Looking at the time, she saw that she had a singing lesson with Christine in just under fifteen minutes.

"I'll tell you later, I've got to go for a..."

"Singing lesson." Chorused all of the other girls. It was obvious to Zurie that they were all very jealous of her learning to sing from Christine Daae.

"Yeah..." She said weakly, and with that, she turned and left, heading for Christine's room.

Zurie couldn't understand why, but she had the strange feeling she was being watched. She hated it when she felt like this, because more often than not she turned out to be right. All of a sudden, she stopped dead. She could have sworn that she had just heard footsteps... but looking around, she saw nobody, just the empty corridor that she had walked down.

"Hello?" She called. There was no answer.

_Must be my imagination..._ She tried not to think about it any more. She started to walk to Christine's room again, but almost immediately stopped. There was no mistaking it. She had definitely heard footsteps that were not her own and she still could see nobody else in the corridor.

Zurie took a deep breath, shook her head as if trying to get something out of her hair and then walked very quickly to Christine's room, determined not to stop, no matter what she heard. Once there, she knocked on the door three times, and waited. A few seconds later, Christine opened the door to let her in.

"Hello Zurie." She said merrily and then she noticed that Zurie was chalk white. "What's wrong?"

"Ummm, nothing..." She replied, then unable to stop herself, said. "...do you ever get that feeling where you're so sure you are being watched?"

This startled Christine. "All the time..." She walked over to the mirror, and appeared to be sorting out her hair, but really she was trying to look beyond it, without success. "...there is something I need to talk to you about Zurie..."

"I can still have singing lessons can't I?" She said in a very worried voice, fearing the worst.

"Yes of course we can. That isn't what I was going to say." Replied Christine with a reassuring smile. "It's about..." She paused, looking around the room, then walked up to the door and locked it and then whispered. "... your step-mother."

Zurie looked angry at these words. "I already know what happened to her. It was the 'Phantom', wasn't it?"

Christine had expected this. She had expected that Ivan would have told her about what had happened.

"Yes, it was..." She began. "...but."

"That evil man!" Growled Zurie, cutting her off. "...If I ever."

"Zurie listen to me!" Shouted Christine, this time cutting her off. Zurie fell silent almost instantly. "You remember when I talked to you about your mother, and I asked what she did before she met your father?" Zurie nodded. "Well the truth is that I already know what she did before she met him."

Zurie's expression changed from curiosity to shock.

"How?" She asked in a very shaky whisper.

"Your mother had been together with somebody in the past..." She whispered. "... and they had a son, your step-brother."

Zurie's eyes went wide with shock, not daring to believe what she was hearing. "How do you know that it's true... How do you know that anyway...how do you?"

"Because I've met him... and so have you... sort of." She ended, rather weakly.

Christine waited with baited breath for Zurie to say something, but she just stood there, silent, not even blinking. After a few moments she started to pace, running her fingers through her hair in frustration.

"Who...?" She whispered, so quietly that Christine did not hear her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Who is it?" Zurie was racking her brains to think who she had met who could possibly be her step brother. However she could think of no-one.

"Me." Came a voice from the far side of the room.

Zurie whirled around, and looking at the space just in front of the mirror, she saw a man, in an evening suit, complete with a cape, and a white half mask on the side of his face. Zurie was rooted to the spot in fear, she could think of only one person who was reputed to wear a white half mask, and he was the last person she wanted to meet.

Zurie opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her throat had gone completely dry. She did not know what to say even if she had been able to speak. After about ten seconds she gave out a sound like a mouse that had just been trodden on.

"The...the..." She had turned a ghostly white, and started to sway on the spot. Christine put her hands on her shoulders to try and steady her. "...phantom?"

Erik nodded. He was surprised that she had not screamed in terror, or even fainted. He had been right that night in the dormitory when he thought that she had a lot of courage.

"My name's Erik, nice to meet you..." Zurie was still rooted to the spot.

_This cannot be right._ She thought to herself. She did not want to risk opening her mouth again. She was afraid that she might be sick.

"I...I don't know what to say." She whispered, looking at the floor.

"Then don't say anything." Said Christine, "Just...relax."

These last two words seemed to bring Zurie back to reality. How could she possibly relax at a time like this? She had just been told that she was related to the man that had attacked her step-mother... his mother...

"I think there are some things that you need to know about your step-mother, Zurie." Began Erik, Zurie looked up into his eyes, as if trying to read his mind.

"Like what?" She spat at him.

"The reason that I attacked her." He said coolly. Zurie now looked curious, but still very angry. "That is, if you want to know?"

"Of course I want to know." She said, but not angrily, as Erik had thought she would, more curiously.

"It was for revenge."

"Revenge! For what?" Zurie could not think of anything her step-mother could have done to have deserved what he had done to her.

"Oh do use your common sense." Said Erik impatiently. "Why do you think she has never mentioned me to you?"

Zurie opened her mouth to argue this point and then stopped. Why had she never mentioned him before?

"As I thought." He said, walking a few steps closer to her. "It is because she has enough sense not to go shouting about selling her only child to the circus..."

Zurie gasped. "She what?"

Erik gave a very evil smile at this. "Not the sweet mother that you thought she was now, eh?"

"You are lying!" She shouted at him, "Why would she sell you to the circus if you are her son? Which I doubt that you are!"

Erik looked a bit sullen at this. "Because of this." He pointed to his mask.

"What's under that?" She asked with a quiver in her voice.

"You don't want to know..." He replied, scratching the side of his face.

"I think I do. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

Erik could see that she was not going to drop the subject easily and so he reached up to remove his mask.

"Do your best not to scream..." He whispered and then removed the mask from his face.

Zurie seemed to be a very unpredictable person, because instead of screaming, fainting or at the very least shouting, she simply blinked, and said nothing.

"Aren't you… afraid?" Asked Erik, sounding very surprised at Zurie's calmness.

Zurie gave a small chuckle. "No, why should I be?"

Erik stared at her, she had been told that she was related to the 'Opera Ghost' and shown what was beneath his mask, and she seemed to be the most calm person in the world about it. On the rare occasion that anybody did see his face beneath the mask, they would usually have screamed. It was amazing, in Erik's opinion, how such a young girl could take it so well.

"Ummm, well… because."

"It's infected?" Zurie asked, still completely calm.

Christine had been very silent all the way through the conversation that the two of them were having. She, like Erik, had not expected Zurie to take any of this news very well at all. There were a few minutes silence, until Christine finally said…

"So, what about our singing lesson?" Both Erik and Zurie laughed at this, as if they had known each other for years.

"I think that Zurie has been through enough for now." Said Erik, replacing the mask onto his face. "There is just one last thing that I have got to say before I leave."

Zurie looked intently at him. "Which is?"

"Be very careful when around your step mother." Replied Erik, very seriously, "She has already admitted to Christine that she has no more love for you than she did for me."

This news did not seem to surprise Zurie at all, but she still looked a little hurt at the sound of it being told to her. She gave a small nod to Erik and then turned to face Christine.

"So, this time tomorrow?" Christine gave her a warm smile.

"Yes." Then her face turned serious, "Zurie… whatever happens, no matter what anybody says to you or asks you, promise me that you will not tell anyone about this."

Zurie nodded. "I promise, I'll see you tomorrow Christine." She walked over to the door, and was just about to open it before turning to Erik, "Bye Erik." And with that, she opened the door and left.

Christine looked over at Erik who looked as though he was on the verge of laughter. His mouth kept twitching into a smile and his eyes were bright with happiness.

"Are you Ok Erik?" Asked Christine, Erik started to chuckle.

"Of all the ways I expected her to react…" He trailed off, staring blankly into the mirror. Christine understood what he meant without him finishing however.

"I know…" She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head in against his chest.

Looking up into his eyes, she saw that they were sparkling, and silent tears had begun to run down his face. Christine didn't say anything, just reached up and wiped the tears away, knowing that he was happy to have somebody he could call family.

-

Zurie went back to her dormitory. She had planned to go back to her parent's house that night, but thought better of it after what she had just been told. She did not have any reason to believe that Christine or Erik would be lying to her about her step-mother. In fact the more she thought about it, the more it made sense, and the more stupid she felt for not realising it sooner.

Fortunately for Zurie, everybody was asleep when she entered her dorm which meant that she could get up early in the morning and sneak out to avoid any awkward questions.

_A step brother…who's the Phantom. _This was the last thing that Zurie could remember thinking before drifting off into a very uneasy sleep.

Erik, who had been listening to see if she was going to say anything to any of the ballet girls, turned and headed back down towards his home, where Christine was waiting for him.

_Things are really going to start to heat up now, Erik, better watch you step…_ With his mother on the rampage it was only a matter of time before she either did something either very cunning, brave, or stupid, or maybe all three of those at the same time.

Erik was more worried about Christine's safety than his however. If that witch did anything to harm Christine like Carlotta tried to then he would have to get rid of her no matter what.

-

"… so it's settled then, that is definitely what we need to give our performers a bit of a morale boost." Said Firmin, taking a sip of tea, and looking over at his colleague.

"I think you mean a break, not a morale boost." Replied André, while adding a lump of sugar to

his cup of coffee.

"Same thing." Snarled Firmin, waving this comment aside like a rotten apple.

The two managers sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking their tea and coffee and watching the sun rise. There was a knock on the door, and as the two of them had expected, the Patrons walked in.

"Good morning." They both said, looking rather nervous due to the episode that Catherine had had during the previous week. She seemed to finally be getting over this however. In fact, she looked rather cheerful.

"Good morning!" She replied, in a very bright tone which startled everyone present in the room. "Hope we didn't come at a bad time. What were you just talking about?"

Both Firmin and André were feeling quite unnerved by Catherine's sudden mood-swing.

"Umm, just discussing what production we were going to do next." Stuttered Firmin, while André nodded in agreement.

"Oh please, do tell!" André was now getting so nervous from her sweet tone that his hands were shaking, and he was starting to spill his coffee everywhere.

"Well…" He said, wincing as a drop of coffee hit his hand, "… the thing is it isn't actually a production, more a sort of… party."

Catherine's smile grew very wide making her look somewhat intimidating as well as delighted. "That sounds lovely!"

Firmin and André both looked at each other, both thinking the same thing.

_She has completely lost her marbles…_

"Oh please do tell me what is happening at this 'Party'…" She used such a peculiar tone of voice that it made it sound as if she cared of nothing else in the world except their conversation.

"Ok, I give in… why are you in such a good mood?" Asked André, a note of annoyance in his voice.

"Oh… No real reason, it's just it's such a nice day…" The weather then decided to change quickly, making the day gloomy, it then started to rain. "The birds are chirping…" There was a clap of thunder, and Firmin could have sworn he heard a bird shriek in terror. "The children are playing…" Ivan peered out the window to see a few children run indoors out of the storm. "And there is nothing not to be happy about!" There was a flash of lighting which then momentarily blinded all four of them.

"Ok, we chose the wrong person for a patron. This woman seems to be jinxed." Whispered Firmin to André, who chuckled.

"Tea!" Boomed Catherine happily, "Oh, I could do with some. I haven't had anything to drink yet."

She poured herself a cup of tea, added some milk, and drank the whole cup in one go. "Ah, that is lovely! So, what is happening at this party?"

"Tell us what has happened to you and we will tell you." Replied André.

"No real reason, it's just it is such a nice…"

"YOU'VE SAID!" Shouted Firmin. "Now can you stop telling us that rubbish and tell us what you are so cheerful about." He finished, lowering his voice considerably.

"I'm just so happy I could sing! I don't need a reason!" She still sounded as though she had just been made queen of France, and Firmin and André could tell that they were not going to get anywhere, and resigned themselves to telling her about the party. A few minutes later, Catherine was beaming more than ever.

"… So it's really just a sort of ball."

"Oh it does sound lovely!" Firmin couldn't understand why, but every time she said the word 'lovely', she said it in such a sweet tone that it for some reason gave him the creeps. "Oh dear lord look at the time! We have been talking for nearly two hours!"

André looked over at the clock, she was right, it was nearly lunch time.

"Yes well, I am quite hungry and so we had better go for some food my dear." Said Ivan, looking very apologetically at the two of them, "We will see you later, messieurs."

With that they left, leaving the two managers stunned, both too shocked to say anything…


	30. Madame Giry’s Tale

Chapter 30 – Madame Giry's Tale

Zurie found it difficult to focus on the day after her meeting with Erik. This earned her a few rebukes from Madame Giry in her ballet lesson. The others thought that this was very unusual as Zurie was always one of the best students.

From the moment that she had woken up she had replayed the entire conversation between herself, Erik and Christine in her mind, and each time she felt more hatred for her step mother. She wondered if her father knew the truth. If he did she was sure that he would throw Catherine out. She was also certain that she had told him a pack of lies to excuse her strange behaviour.

She still had doubts in her mind about Erik really being Catherine's son. But knew Christine wouldn't lie, after all why would she have introduced him if none of it was true?

To avoid awkward questions about why she was so late going to bed last night, no sooner had Madame Giry dismissed them from their regular ballet lesson in the morning she sped off in the direction of Christine's room. Determined to ask more questions and get the answers from Erik.

-

Christine looked worriedly at the mirror she stood in front of. "How do you think she took that news?"

"Well I know she did not tell any other ballet rats. She took it surprisingly well. I would have expected her to respond more like the way you did when we had our first encounter." Erik's voice replied.

Christine looked at the floor sheepishly. "Will you come out from behind the mirror so I can make it up to you?"

Erik couldn't help but smile. He pulled the lever and stepped over the threshold into her room to be welcomed by a gentle embrace from Christine.

They looked deep into each others eyes for a moment; Erik slowly pulled her face closer to his. Both taking in a silent, deep breath. When a knock came at the door.

_Talk about perfect timing!_ He thought ever so slightly annoyed.

Christine released him and called to the door. "Who is it?" with a deep sigh.

"It's me." Came a familiar voice. "Zurie."

"Come in Zurie." Christine turned round to face the door. Erik stood close behind her placing his hands upon her shoulders.

Zurie walked in, shutting the door quickly behind her. "I'm sorry for intruding, but I had to get away from the others. They will only ask questions, and I don't really want them pestering me all day. I knew that I would be safe from them if I came here."

Erik nodded in response and Christine walked over to Zurie and led her to the bed so that she could sit down because she looked slightly out of breath. Erik walked over, folding his arms over his chest and looking at her curiously.

"I must say Zurie; I am very pleasantly surprised that you managed to keep your silence." Zurie looked up into to his eyes, worried in case she had done anything wrong. To her surprise Erik's face softened into a smile. "I appreciate it." Zurie relaxed a bit when she heard those words. He patted her shoulder and then stood back, reading her expression. "You didn't come here just to get away from the others. You came here for answers did you not?"

Zurie looked down and nodded. "Yes, if you do not mind me asking." She looked back up into his blue eyes.

"No, I do not mind but, for the moment, I will not give you any answers." Christine looked at him. He had told her most things. Why would he refuse to tell Zurie? "But…" He continued. "…both of you may find your answers from Madame Giry. She will tell you what you need to know."

Zurie and Christine looked at each other then over to Erik. "What do you mean?" Christine asked. Zurie was thinking exactly the same thing.

"Ask her and you will find out." He replied simply.

"Wait." Zurie said with her eyes shut, playing what he had said over in her mind. "Madame Giry knows you?"

Erik nodded. "There are only four people who know me personally." Erik knew that was a lie. But if he had told the truth he would of finished the sentence with 'who have survived' as the others like Bouquet, Carlotta and Massort had either come close to death or had their life taken away by Erik's hands.

"However." he continued, explaining briefly what he meant. "Christine, you know some things of my past. Even you, however, do not know how I came to be here at the opera house. That is something that I told you that I would explain a lot later and now I feel you should know, but I cannot explain it myself." Christine nodded to show that she knew what he was talking about.

He turned to face Zurie. "The answers you are looking for will confirm that I was telling the truth yesterday and yet if they come from me you will still be in doubt. You trust Madame Giry more than anyone. She is not a liar and you know that. Her version of events will confirm that I'm not lying."

Zurie nodded showing she understood. Then she remembered how her ballet teacher had been worked up that morning and how picky she was being. Maybe it was best to mention it to Erik before they went to see her.

"I think there is something that is deeply troubling Madame Giry. But no one knows what it is." She piped up.

Erik guessed what it could be. Antoinette had briefly mentioned it before when Meg ended up in the oubliette. "I believe it is the managers. They are very suspicious of her connections with me. Possibly it is them who have been giving her trouble. We shall go to see her and she will be able to tell us the reason why. I shall have a talk with her later on."

He walked over to the mirror and pressed down on the tile which made the mirror slide open. "Come, she will be in her office. I will take you to her." He gestured down the passageway.

Zurie and Christine got off the bed and followed Erik down the dark tunnel. Zurie held Christine's hand as she thought they would have to walk all the way in pitch black.

_So this is how he gets around. I would prefer going this way so I don't bump into anyone. Even if it is in total darkness._

Erik clicked his fingers making the passage light up. Zurie gasped but all three continued down the passage, Erik leading the way.

-

Madame Giry had been very worked up and it had become more obvious day by day. Being the stubborn woman that she was, she would not talk about it to anyone. She knew that the managers had mentioned their suspicions to the patrons. This worried her as she was afraid that it would cost her job. Ballet teaching was her life.

She was in her office finishing off some paper work. The managers had explained about the up coming ball. It was now the middle of April and if they had the ball for new years it would be too far away and so they had decided to throw the ball to celebrate the Opera Populaire's 60th Anniversary. This was on August the 9th. She was in charge of arranging the dances and it needed a lot of preparation.

She heard a click and turned round to see not just Erik, but Christine and young Zurie Beaumont standing beside him.

"Antoinette." Erik said, taking a small bow.

"Erik, Christine, Zurie." She replied. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I want you to tell them." He said coolly. "They have a right to know about 'you know what'. If that is alright with you?"

"Very well, I will do so. Oh, have you heard about the ball?"

"The masquerade ball in August, yes I have. I will come to speak to you alone later."

_He will ask me to tell him what is troubling me. But I assume he already knows part of it._

"As you wish." She replied.

Erik bowed and departed, leaving the three women alone in the office. Madame Giry walked over and locked the door. She turned round to face Zurie. "So he has told you then?"

"Yes. He said to talk to you." She replied.

"Have a seat." She pointed to two chairs at the side of the room. Zurie and Christine both sat down. Madame Giry leaned against the wall opposite them.

"It was years ago. There was a travelling Gypsy Fair in the city. I was very young, studying to be a ballerina, one of many living in the dormitories of the Opera house…"

-

_Antoinette Giry was a young girl. Only 15 years of age. She was in a group of other young girls, who were also studying to be ballerinas. _

_They had heard of a travelling fair that was just around the corner and were given permission by their ballet mistress to go and look around as long as they promised to stay together._

_Gypsies, in Antoinette's opinion, were strange people who travelled from place to place, showing magic and any other things that would make money._

_The group passed a woman who was calling out: "Come! See the wonders from the east!"_

_They didn't seem that interested, so continued to wander round, passing people who had their legs over their head, people making strange faces and others dressed up and laughing a horrid cackle._

_They then passed a tent. The entrance was suddenly flung open and a man in a grey, faintly stripped shirt, with a short, shaggy tash and dirty skin who called out: "Come" in a rusty, hoarse voice. "Come, Come inside! See the devil's child!" He beckoned the visitors standing nearby to come inside. The tent had a sign above it which read in black writing. 'The Devil's Child'_

_She walked in among the others; in the middle of the tent was a cage. Antoinette walked up to the bars and looked inside. _

_Sitting in the middle was a young child, sitting on a rough layer of straw, wearing dirty black trousers and a sack over his head. He was playing with what looked like a monkey figure, with cymbals. _

_The man opened the cage and walked over to the child, Antoinette assumed it was a boy, and looked on in horror. The man lifted his foot and placed it quickly down on the monkey, crushing the boy's hand, he then picked up a club, raised it and brought it down with force so it hit the boys ribs._

_All the people surrounding the cage were laughing, as the poor child was struck at least four or five times, each blow harder than the previous one. All Antoinette could do was watch, feeling helpless as the boy was beaten._

_His master then lifted his foot off of his wrist, so he sat upright; a hand was then placed on top of the sack covering the child's head. "Behold Mesdames et Messieurs; The Devil's Child!" The sack was removed, and the other hand grabbed the hair underneath; revealing a boy about 10 years of age with a hideous scar covering the right side of his face. _

_He closed his eyes; it was the only way to bear the leering faces, and the cruel jeers and comments. The people who were there threw scraps of food and coins into the cage. Eventually the boy was let go, he quickly pulled the sack back over his head, as the master said mockingly: "The devil's child!"_

_The audience began to leave the tent as the money was collected. Antoinette was reluctant to leave him. She felt so utterly helpless. She couldn't believe how the people had laughed, even the other girls who were there with her._

_Just as she headed back out she heard a gasping sound and turned round to see the boy on his master's back holding a rope around his throat, pulling it tighter and tighter. She gasped as she looked at what she was seeing. He was strangling him._

_The Master went limp, Antoinette ran over to the cage flung open the door and held out a hand. "Come with me!" She pleaded. The boy bent down to pick up the monkey he was holding earlier then reached out, took her outstretched hand and they both ran. Just as they left they heard someone scream: "Murder! He's killed him!"_

_Antoinette led the boy back around the corner. She could hear footsteps coming after them. She ran to a little grating and opened it. "In there." She ordered. She slammed it shut checking for anyone looking around. Then she ran into the building of the Opera Populaire, before the guards came into the yard._

_She ran down a level into the room where she knew he would end up in. He took her hand again and they both ran down the corridor. After a little way she stopped and turned to look at him. "Keep going along here. You will be safe, they won't find you." _

_The boy nodded. And whispered weakly; "Thank you." _

"_Meet me here again tomorrow evening. I will bring you some food and other stuff you will need." Again the boy nodded._

_Antoinette turned and wandered back along the corridor which she and the boy had come down, leaving him to continue down the passageway into the darkness._

-

"I hid him from the world and its cruelties." She finished. "He has really not known much else of life since then, except this Opera house. It was once his play ground, now his artistic domain."

Zurie had paled by the story. "I cannot believe she did that to him. That wicked witch!" She finished angrily.

Christine felt dumb struck. _Erik, oh dear god Erik, no wonder you wanted to spare me the details of what they did to you. You suffered like that for two years._

Zurie and Christine both felt complete and utter hatred for Catherine now. The worst part was she had walked back into his life. Christine saw how badly Erik had reacted when he saw her on the first evening of Faust. Zurie now knew why Erik attacked her; she had no more doubt left in her mind about what she had been told.

Madame Giry broke the uneasy silence. "Despite his appearance, he is a genius; he is a designer, architect, composer, magician and a ventriloquist. A genius." She said brightly.

Zurie looked confused at the last word she has said of that list. _What is a ventriloquist_?

Christine wasn't familiar with that word either. "A ventriloquist?" She asked.

Madame Giry Opened her mouth to explain. But a different voice answered which appeared to be from no particular source. "A ventriloquist is one who can manipulate their voice, so It can appear from everywhere." It echoed around the room.

Christine laughed slightly. "You mean like that?"

Zurie's mouth was slightly open. Her eyes darting around the room. She was apparently trying to determine where Erik was.

_How on gods green earth does he do that?_

There was then a huge puff of red smoke. Causing all three to gasp, splutter and cough slightly. As the smoke cleared a cloaked figure emerged. Zurie's jaw almost dropped onto the floor.

_OR THAT!_

"Zurie." Erik said softly. "Surely you have been taught that it is rude to stare, or gawp?"

Zurie turned a slight pink and snapped her jaw shut. "I'm sorry." She looked sad. "And I'm sorry I did not believe you before, please forgive me." She now looked as if she was going to cry.

Erik walked over to her and bent down on one knee so that he was level with her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "There was nothing you could have done, besides this happened a long time before you were born, but it's over now." He whispered to her softly.

Zurie looked at him, and then suddenly threw her arms around his neck. Sobbing into his shoulder. Erik closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. "Shhh." He whispered.

"This is all my fault, If I had never wanted to become a ballerina here then I would not have brought that witch back into your life, I'm sorry." She said In a muffled tone.

"No it's not. There was no way you could have known." He whispered.

She lifted her head off his shoulder, and Erik stood up. "Here." He said pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to Zurie. "Take this and wipe those tears away." Zurie took it, expressing her thanks.

Erik looked over to Christine who looked as if she was about to cry too. Erik took a few paces toward her, and they embraced each other tightly. Like they had done when he had told her about the time Javert, Roscoe and Desoto had come to take him away.

They eventually broke apart and he pulled another handkerchief out of his pocket, as Christine's face was now tear stained. "Here. There is no need for tears." Christine gratefully took the hankie and dabbed her eyes.

"It is time for lunch. Both of you go down to the dining room to get your fill. Go now. I will see you both tonight as there is a music lesson." He smiled at them.

"See you later then." Christine said. Zurie joined her and they headed over to the door, unlocked it and disappeared, leaving Erik and Antoinette alone.

-

Christine and Zurie talked all the way down to lunch.

"I swear if I see my step mother, I will do something I shouldn't." Zurie hissed.

"Zurie Beaumont!" Christine exclaimed jokingly. "I never had you down as a violent girl, but I do agree with you on that."

"But surely my father does not know."

Christine had originally thought that Ivan did know, but if he did, he would surely have thrown her out. Obviously she had told him a pack of lies.

Christine shrugged. "Did you hear them mention a masquerade ball? Instead of a production?"

Zurie smiled. "Yes, the managers thought of it. I was not supposed to tell anyone about it as my father told me, but it's to mark the Opera Populaire's 60th Birthday. Which is sometime during August." She looked at Christine. "But you must not tell anyone."

They continued their conversation until they got to the dining room. To the annoyance of both of them Catherine was there smiling that thin, twisted smile of hers. They both ignored her and went to sit down to have a regular lunch.

-

"…I swear to you Antoinette, if they do anything they will pay. But I think my mother cannot risk the truth coming out. She would lose everything should it become known." He said reassuringly.

"Thank you Erik and I know you will do what you can." She smiled at him. "By the way how is your Opera coming along?"

"Getting there. I need to finish it off now. As there is nothing really happening until August, I plan to focus completely on that after tonight, so I may disappear for a few months. I will explain this to Christine and Zurie after their singing lesson tonight but nothing will have happened, and if there is any problem, Write a letter and leave it on your desk." He told her.

"No!" She stated. "You promised to keep your cat away from me!"

"Alright, leave it with Christine. Porsche will come to visit her every night, and will bring down any letters to me." He said quickly.

Madame Giry nodded. "I can live with that."

Erik smiled. "Well I must depart. Good luck with the masquerade ball." He gave a small bow. "And thank you. Au revoir."

"Au revoir." She replied as Erik vanished, leaving her alone in the room.


	31. The Unwilling Rematch

Chapter 31- The Unwilling Rematch

All through the following week Catherine Beaumont seemed to be getting more and more excited and happy about something. When she was at the Opera House, she seemed to be perfectly happy and jolly but this seemed rather peculiar due to the attack by the 'Opera Ghost' a fortnight ago.

Christine had just finished having her breakfast. Much to her annoyance, as well as Zurie's who was sitting next to her, Catherine had decided to sit right opposite them.

"Is it just me or was she staring at us all through breakfast?" Asked Zurie, in a would-be calm voice that did not cover up her nervousness.

"You thought so too? She is really starting to give me the creeps…" Christine then looked over her shoulder to make sure that nobody was listening. "… maybe she's going to…"

"Ah! Miss Daae." Christine and Zurie both looked up to see Richard Firmin approaching them. "I was hoping to catch you after breakfast."

"Bonjour Monsieur Firmin." She said politely, wondering what on earth he could want.

"Erm… I hope you don't mind but…" He turned to Zurie. "…I need to speak to Miss Daae alone, ok?"

Zurie said nothing, just gave them both a small nod and turned to leave. Christine looked at Firmin Curiously.

"Christine… I need to ask you a favour… for the Masquerade Ball." Christine was expecting this, even though the ball wasn't until August, and it was now early May the managers seemed to be obsessing about it as much as they did with a new production.

"Yes… please continue." Firmin seemed rather nervous.

"Well… since you are our official leading lady, myself and André thought that it might be a good idea if you… and someone… did a dance to close off the evening." Firmin now started to fidget, as though he thought that he had asked too much.

"Someone?" Christine could not think who the managers would have in mind.

"Yes…someone." He paused, thinking. "We will leave that choice up to you if you like. If you cannot think of anyone then we will decide if you wish…"

"Ok." She said plainly, considering the request.

"So… Will you do it?"

Christine was still thinking. She had hoped that the ball was just going to be a bit of fun, but if she had to rehearse a dance for it…

"You don't have to if you don't want to." Said Firmin, very fast. "It's just we thought…"

"Of course I will." Cut in Christine, Firmin looked absolutely delighted.

"Splendid! Well, thank you very much Miss Daae, find someone soon so you can get practicing, won't you?"

"Yes Monsieur Firmin." Firmin bowed his leave, and Christine thought over what she had just agreed to.

_A closing dance… well, that should not be too difficult, after all, I was once in the ballet…_

-

Catherine held her coat tight around her as the wind hit her. She was heading to what seemed to be the darkest part of Paris there was.

_Well… I suppose I should have expected something like this…_ She thought to herself, as a pack of rats came scuttling past her feet.

She turned left down an alleyway, shivering as the cold wind continued to beat against her face. She stopped in front of a very old and rotten looking door. Just above the frame she could make out the words 'Agatha's Apothecary'.

She knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer and so she raised her hand to knock again, but before she could, an old, croaky voice called out…

"Enter…" Catherine reached out for the handle, then realised that there wasn't one.

"How?" She called to her through the door.

"Just push my dear… just push…." Catherine pushed lightly against the door, which swung open, creaking on its rusty hinges.

She entered the surprisingly brightly lit room and then coughed as she breathed in the putrid smell that was about the place.

"Have a seat my dear…" Said the old woman who Catherine assumed was Agatha. She stumbled over to the nearest chair, still coughing. "A most peculiar order…" Muttered Agatha, Catherine then came back to her senses as her coughing ceased.

"Can it be done?" She asked, impatiently.

"Oh, it can be done certainly!" Agatha had a very evil glint in her eye. "…but I'm afraid it will not come cheap, the sorts of ingredients needed are very…"

"How much?" Cut in Catherine pulling out a money bag from her inside coat pocket. Agatha looked at it longingly, reaching out a long weedy finger, which Catherine slapped away from the bag

"2000 francs." Croaked Agatha, Catherine laughed.

"I don't think so, 1000."

"2000 francs and no less." Catherine could see that Agatha was not going to be beaten down easily.

"1500."

"2100, the extra one-hundred francs is for arguing over price, I suggest you take that offer before I raise it more." Catherine was now getting very annoyed with her. Accepting defeat she counted out 2100 francs, and handed them over to Agatha.

"How long will it take?" Catherine's impatience was getting the better of her again.

Agatha was fiddling with a vial of green liquid. "A couple of hours… then at least another hour to mature…"

_Three hours… that shouldn't be too long._

"Are you going to come back to collect it? Or stay and watch?"

Catherine could not think of anything to do for three hours, so replied. "I'll stay and watch. I'm sure that it will be fascinating!" The last part of her sentence was said in such a sarcastic tone of voice that Catherine was surprised Agatha did not get annoyed with her.

"Very good." Whispered Agatha, whilst tipping the contents of the vial into a crucible, and heating it on a flame.

-

"A closing dance…?" Asked Erik, he was currently half way through a line of the score on his 'Don Juan Triumphant'.

"Yes, and they are leaving it up to me to decide who I dance with." Erik didn't seem as surprised at this as Christine was. He did not think that the managers would have enough brains to decide. "So, are you going to do the dance with me?"

Erik nearly spilled the bottle of ink he was dipping his quill into. "You know I can't…"

"Why not?" Asked Christine. "It is a masquerade ball after all and so nobody will see your face, or know that it is 'The Phantom of the Opera'."

Erik could see Christine's point but still he thought that it would be too risky for him to make a public appearance. "Give me some time to think about it…"

"Ok, I'll see you later, won't I? Or will you be too busy with your composing?" Christine would understand if he would prefer to be left alone.

"Well, I am aiming to get this finished before the ball… and it will require lots of attention…"

"Alright, I will see you when I see you then." She kissed him on the cheek, and made her way to the boat, accompanied by Porsche, with the sound of Erik's Don Juan playing in the background.

It sounded as if he had finished 'Point of no Return', because he was now playing a very angry tune, which had the occasional odd sounding note in it, whenever one was played, there was always a pause, probably to correct the mistake on the score.

It was surprising how far up the passage you could go and still hear the piano clearly, when she reached the top of the stairs however, the sound died, almost instantly.

Christine wondered what she was going to do now. Up until then she had usually spent most of her time either rehearsing for productions, or with Erik, but since she could do neither, she felt lost. She thought for a moment that she would go and see Meg, then realised that she would probably be with Byron.

With no alternative in mind, she decided that now would be the time to have a nap. She did not feel overly tired, but perhaps the sleep would do her some good.

-

"Five more minutes, my dear… then it will have completely matured." Catherine looked very excited at these words.

"Excellent…" Agatha continued to clear up all of the vials she had used. By the time she had finished, she picked up the now finished silver concoction. Catherine took it from her almost immediately, and turned to leave.

"Just a moment my dear…" Called out Agatha. Catherine turned round to face her. "… The potion must be absorbed through the skin. It cannot be drunk, as that will have no effect." She paused for a moment to let Catherine take this in. "It will be more effective if the flesh is pierced first."

Catherine nodded, then turned and left. She hurried back as fast as she could to the Populaire, sniggering. The only problem she faced would be to find Christine… if she was with Erik there was no way of getting to her, after all she had no idea where Erik lived, though she assumed that it was somewhere in the Opera House, or at least near it.

She entered the Opera house; the most logical place to start would be Christine's room, though she doubted that she would be there. It was easy for her to find her way round now. She had been there long enough to know where everywhere was.

She finally reached Christine's door. She tried the handle, but the door was locked.

_Could she be in there?_ She knocked on the door, and to her great surprise, Christine's voice called out.

"Who is it?" Catherine thought it would be common sense not to answer, as she would never let her in if she knew who it was.

Catherine waited, if there was no answer then she would open the door to investigate. However the door stayed closed. Catherine knocked again.

"Yes?" Catherine again stayed silent, waiting for the door to open, but again it didn't.

She had a sudden idea, putting on a very hoarse voice, she whispered as loud as she could. "Help…me…"

She sounded so different from her original self that she was sure it would work. Hearing footsteps approach the door, Catherine quickly pulled out a pocket knife which she had carried with her everywhere since the event that happened on the roof, then the door opened, and she struck…

-

"Right… nearly finished this song…" Erik muttered to himself, while scratching away at the score in front of him. "…and…"

'Meow'. Erik looked down to see Porsche at his heels. She seemed to be very agitated about something, and was trying to signal to Erik what this was.

"Is it Christine?" He asked the cat. She nodded and then bolted out of the door as quickly as possible with Erik right behind her.

They made their way up the passage back to Christine's room. Erik had expected to see her on the way, but instead found her in her room. At a glance, he thought that she was merely sleeping, but a closer look told him that she was unconscious. Erik let out a gasp. On her right arm was a deep gash, which smelled horrible.

Not wasting any time, he took her in his arms and made his way as quickly as he could back down to his home. Christine was still breathing, but he did not know what was wrong with her and therefore he did not know if she would survive.

Finally reaching the dock of his lair, he quickly took her to the guest room and laid her down. Her breathing had not altered, which was one piece of good news for Erik. He examined her to try and find out what was wrong with her, but from what he could see, apart from the fact she had a cut on her right arm, and that she was unconscious, she was in perfect health.

Erik cleaned the wound and was about to wrap it in a bandage, then he thought that it would be better if he put salt on it first, it would stop infection. Making his way to the kitchen, he went to get some salt, but then saw that there wasn't any. Panicking completely, he looked around for some, pulling items out of the shelves.

He had just spotted some, and was about to reach for it when…

SLASH! Erik felt a searing pain across his back, and whirled around as fast as he could. To his complete and utter horror, he saw Christine standing there with a sword in her hand, poised and ready to strike.

"Christine?" She did not answer, but instead made a lunge straight for him, which he only just about managed to dodge. Erik ran to the other side of the room, staring at her. Her face was strangely blank. "Christine… stop!"

She ran towards him again, trying to lunge straight for his heart. Erik dodged it again, and then ran straight for the armoury. He entered it and was closely followed by Christine. He ran to the opposite end of the room and took down one sword, then turned around as quickly as possible to block an incoming attack of Christine's.

He pushed her sword away from him as hard as he could; the pain in his back was making him feel very weak. Christine fell to the floor at the force of his push. Erik took his opportunity and went to take the sword out of her hands, but she kicked him square in the chest just before he could reach her.

The kick winded Erik. Gasping for breath he took a swing at her hand. He did not want to seriously injure her. He just wanted to disarm her. Christine parried the attack, then swung an uppercut with her sword so violently that it knocked Erik's sword out of his hands.

Christine raised her sword ready to deliver a killing blow. Erik clicked his fingers and the lights went out. Moving out of the way he headed for his sword and then he heard a click. The lights went back on and he had only just managed to pick the sword up in time before Christine tried yet again to stab him.

Erik moved to the wall and took down another sword, with the sword in his right hand he blocked an incoming attack, and with the sword in his left hand he took a swipe at Christine's sword hand.

The back of Christine's hand was cut, yet she did not cry out in pain, she just continued to try and stab Erik.

_What is going on!_ Thought Erik, something had to be wrong with Christine for her to be acting like this. She would not just attack him like that…

Without warning, Christine threw her sword at Erik as hard as she could. It caught him on his right arm and he dropped the sword that he was holding. He still had one left however.

Christine went to get another sword, which gave Erik a moment or two to recover. Christine's face was still blank, as if she was in a trance.

Christine lunged towards him again, and Erik vanished in a puff of smoke. Christine looked round to see where he went. Erik had gone into the music room. He had to stay away from Christine for as long as possible and work out how to snap her out of this trance.

All of a sudden a door near Erik swung open and hit him on the side of the head. Christine rushed in still trying to stab him in the heart. Erik fell to the floor due to the blow to the side of the head. Christine yet again prepared for a killing blow but then Porsche came out of nowhere and pounced at her sword hand, sinking her teeth in deep, and causing her to drop the sword.

Getting very aggravated, but still with her face completely blank, Christine threw Porsche off of her hand, and the cat was thrown against the wall and knocked unconscious. Erik in the meantime had moved into the kitchen with Christine hot on his heels.

Erik grabbed a handful of salt that he was going to use on the wound, and threw it into Christine's eyes, momentarily blinding her. For a split second, her facial expression turned to one of pain, and Erik thought that he had snapped her out of her trance. He was wrong however, as she then swung at his head as if trying to sever it.

Erik ducked out of the way. He still had one sword in his hand which he could use to defend himself, but the pain in his back and in his arm were building up so much he was surprised that he hadn't passed out.

Erik ran into the bedroom and locked the door behind him. Unfortunately for him there was no secret passageway out of there and so he would have to just hope that Christine could not get in and that she would recover and return to her normal state.

Unfortunately, she did not seem to be recovering and she hacked away at the door with her sword. Erik could see no way around it. He would have to knock her unconscious. The door then burst open and Christine ran in. Erik jumped out of the way of an attack and Christine whirled around to strike again.

Erik parried the attack, but Christine then seized the quilt on the bed and threw it into the air so that they could not see one another. Christine thrust her sword through the quilt and pierced Erik's left arm before it fell to the floor.

The pain that Erik was feeling was unbearable. He sank to the floor at Christine's feet and waited. Looking up, he saw Christine raise the sword high above her head, ready to strike…


	32. The Aftermath

Chapter 32 – The Aftermath

Christine brought the sword down. Just before it reached Erik's heart, a foot came out of nowhere and kicked her hand, sending the sword straight across the floor. Erik looked up to see Daroga. He removed a small bottle containing a clear liquid and splashed some into Christine's face.

She still had the blank expression on her face, but closed her eyes as she fell onto the floor beside Erik. He looked at her knowing that whatever Daroga had done had stopped her. Then Erik surrendered to the overwhelming pain and blacked out.

-

Catherine was sitting down having a talk with Ivan. Her mind did not seem to be on the conversation however. Her thoughts carried her off to her world of fantasies. She pictured Christine killing Erik, then not being able to live with herself. And there was no way it could ever be traced back to her. It made her shiver with excitement.

"…Don't know what has gotten into her." Ivan finished.

"Hmm?" She replied. "Sorry darling, I didn't catch that."

Ivan sighed. "I said, I don't know what has gotten into Zurie. She seems very withdrawn. I have tried to talk to her but she just won't tell me what's wrong."

"Oh, maybe you're just being paranoid. She is growing up; she won't want to tell you everything." She said quite harshly.

"How would you know? You have never had any children of your own!" He snapped back.

Catherine just sat there. Not happy with being snapped at; she put on an upset expression. Ivan's face fell.

"I'm sorry my dear. I just don't want to drift away from her. I didn't mean to say that."

They were both unaware that Zurie was listening at the door. She wanted to find out for sure if her father knew what kind of woman Catherine really was.

_You would be surprised at the things she hasn't told you father. If only you knew._

Ever since Zurie had been told about what happened to Erik, she wanted to get back at Catherine. Yet she hadn't been able to think of any way to do so. She decided to go back to the dormitory and continue to think it over. With that she headed off, leaving Catherine and Ivan still talking.

"…and I don't understand what is causing your mood swing. You were attacked by a person who calls himself the Phantom of the Opera. Then you're suddenly cheerful."

Catherine pouted. "Don't I have the right to be cheerful?"

"No, it's not that, Catherine; I just wondered what has brought it on." He said exasperated.

"Nothing in particular. I suppose that being the new patron of the Populaire has excited me but now I believe we should go and discuss more plans for the ball with the managers." She said trying to put an end to Ivan's prying.

"Alright then, I will go to find Zurie and have another attempt at talking to her." Catherine smiled and they walked off to the managers' office.

-

Erik groaned as he began to open his eyes. He tried to sit up but a hand was placed on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"Glad to see you're awake. You took a bit of a thrashing." Said the Persian.

"Daroga?" Erik mumbled. "Where is Christine?"

The Persian chuckled. "She is fine. I put her in the other room. You cannot see her yet. You need time to recover. You have sustained a fairly serious injury."

"W – What happened, why was she like that?" Erik moaned.

"I will explain it later; right now you need to rest. Luckily your wounds were not too deep. But they will be very sore for two or three days." He disappeared for a moment then came back with a cloth. "Here, this will cool you down." He placed the damp cloth on his forehead.

"I need to see her, please."

"And I say no. Not yet anyhow." He chuckled slightly. "You never change Erik; you can't sit still for long but I'm afraid you're going to have to, for at least a week or two maybe three." He said calmly.

"What!" Erik almost shouted sitting bolt upright. "Two to three weeks? I have things to do Daroga. I can't just sit here!"

"Well you can't do them if you're ill can you? The more you rest the faster you will recover. Now lie back down!" He instructed firmly.

Erik muttered something, and carefully lowered himself onto his back. He felt so weak.

"Daroga, please explain to me what happened. I need to know." Erik asked in a polite tone.

The Persian nodded. "First you must let me tend to your cat. I think she is alright, but I need to give her a check over as she was out cold when I arrived."

Erik had forgotten about Porsche and that she had tried to stop Christine from attacking him. He smiled at the thought; she indeed was a brave cat.

"I noticed on Christine's hand there were bite marks. Was that Porsche?" Daroga asked.

Erik nodded. "She was only trying to stop Christine from hurting me." He said weakly.

He smiled. "I will be back in a moment." He said, before swiftly exiting the room.

Erik lay there, thinking about what had happened. _That was not Christine, but what could have possessed her to do that? She is so kind and gentle and would never hurt anyone intentionally, not even me but she didn't know what she was doing. Her face was expressionless. And what did Daroga throw at her to make her stop? I certainly hope it was nothing that can affect her permanently._

The door reopened and Daroga came back in, Porsche cradled in his arms.

"Someone to see you, Erik." He said placing the cat down on top of him. Porsche went up to his face and gave him a lick on the nose, before putting her head against his. Erik scratched the cat behind her ears and she lay down purring softly.

"Thank you Porsche." Erik whispered hoarsely. The cat mewed and gave him another lick.

"She has a slight limp in her right back leg; it must have been injured when she hit the wall. But apart from that nothing is broken. She will be able to walk normally soon." Daroga explained.

"I'm glad it's nothing serious." Erik smiled at the cat.

Daroga placed a chair down beside the bed and sat down, his legs crossed and his hands folded in his lap. Erik looked at him patiently. "Daroga, please tell me what you know."

The Persian's jade eyes looked down at the floor for a moment and then back at Erik. "When I was examining Christine I found a huge gash in one of her arms. The wound smelled… rather peculiar." He paused as Erik nodded. "I have only encountered this once before in Persia. It is a very rare substance and only to be used by certain people. It is often used as a potion for witchcraft." He paused again to make sure Erik was listening. "It goes by the name of Narkèsado. It is a drug which is absorbed through an open wound in the skin so that the blood stream absorbs it quicker. Drinking it has no effect as it loses its power by the time the blood absorbs it. It will just make someone feel very sick. But when absorbed directly into the bloodstream it causes the victim to attack the first person they see. It is like they are in a trance. They sometimes can see what they are doing but cannot fight it because the drug is in control of them. Other times they cannot remember it at all." He finished.

Before he could resume Erik interrupted. "What was that liquid you threw at her?"

"Just water." He said simply. Erik's eyes widened a little. "Say for example you are sleeping heavily, or are awake but have not woken up properly. What do people do to make themselves more awake?"

"Splash their face with water." Erik finished. Understanding how it worked now. "But how did you know what it was?"

"Call it instinct. Back in Persia I studied medicines and potions. And, as I said, I had seen a similar thing once before." He said coolly.

"What were you doing down here anyway?" Erik asked curiously.

"I wished to pay you a visit. Besides it's a good thing I was here, or she would have killed you. She wouldn't have stopped until the job was done." He finished on a serious note.

"What would I do without you Daroga?" Erik said on a positive note. "I owe you agreat deal for this."

Daroga smiled. "You're a friend Erik. You owe me nothing." He paused and thought for a moment. "But if you want to do me a favour then you can promise me that you will stay in bed until I tell you, and allow me to take care of you until you are well enough."

Erik rolled his eyes. And Daroga expected the next sentence to be something along the lines of: 'Not a hope in hell am I going to be able to do that.'

"If those are the doctor's orders. Then consider me bedridden for as long as necessary." Erik said in a light voice.

Daroga's eyes widened in surprise. "You know I never thought I would see the day when Erik, The Phantom of the Opera would do as he was told." He began to laugh, and Erik chuckled along with him.

The laughing died down. "Will you please go and check on Christine for me?" Erik was still concerned about her. As she had also had a few cuts, but not nearly as bad as his were.

Daroga again disappeared for a moment and came back. "She is still sleeping. I don't know for how long though, however I will go and check on her in the next half hour."

"Thank you."

Daroga shook his head. "I just don't understand who would have done that to her."

Erik's eyes flashed, and his teeth clenched very tightly. _I know exactly who. And she will pay for this. I didn't care for the fact that she would be around the opera house but for this I can never forgive! She is no mother of mine. She gave up that role all those years ago when she sold me to Javert!_

Erik hadn't realised but thinking about this, his temperature had risen even though Daroga had removed all of his top layers so he could clean and stitch the wounds. Although the room was cool he felt like his insides were on fire.

"Erik?" Daroga whispered. "Erik what is wrong?"

"She may have tried to end my life through Christine, but it has failed. She will get what she deserves. In the harshest way possible." He hissed through gritted teeth, more to himself than the Persian. "Now it is my turn to put her through hell and back!"

-

Zurie was walking down a corridor when a male voice called after her. "Zurie, sweetheart."

_Now what does he want?_

"Yes?" She said irritated.

"I was wondering if we could have a chat." He asked.

"What for father? There is nothing to talk about."

"There is. I want to know what is bothering you. You know I care about you."

"If I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me, you would only hate me."

"You know that's not true. Zurie please tell me what is bothering you."

"No." She continued to walk.

He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. This was a mistake and it only made her more angry. She swung round and hit his arm off of her.

"Alright, you want to know?" She spat. "Ask the wicked witch, also known as Catherine."

"What has Catherine got to do with this? She has done nothing wrong." He asked puzzled.

"Shows what you really know about her and how long you have been kept in the dark." She continued, her voice rising with every sentence.

"Zurie what are you talking…" He began.

"HER SON!" She screamed at him. She covered her mouth realising she had said too much.

Ivan just stared at her. "Her son?" He repeated. "But Zurie she has never had any children."

"That's what she told you, but I know different. I know the truth." She breathed heavily. "Now you have a choice. You either believe me, or her."

"Zurie that's not…"

"Shows how blind you are as well as stupid." She cut him off.

"ZURIE!" He bellowed. It rang down the corridor.

"Fine, if you don't believe me, go ask the witch herself. She has never loved you; she only married you for the money." She continued. Zurie was never one to hold her tongue if she was as angry as she was right now.

Ivan's face was like thunder. He opened his mouth to say something back. But was too angry and so spun on his heel and marched back the way he had come down the corridor. Zurie watched her father disappear then ran off in the opposite direction, crying tears of anger and hatred. Not for her father, but for herself and the way she had spoken to him.

-

Christine's eyes fluttered open. Her vision was very blurred and her head was spinning. She lay there for a moment, waiting for her head to feel clearer. She slowly sat upright and yawned a little. Suddenly she realised she was at Erik's.

_What am I doing here?_

She thought about it when memories of her trying to stab Erik came flooding back to her. She had been able to see what she was doing, but it was like something else controlling her.

_Oh my god! ERIK!_

She bolted out of bed, and ran into a room opposite hers. She flung open the door to see Erik asleep with Porsche watching him. "Erik?" She whispered, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"He is alright, Miss Daae." She looked over to the chair where Daroga was sitting. "He is simply asleep. How are you feeling?"

"Awful, what did I do to him? I just remember trying to kill him and I was unable to stop myself like I was possessed." She sank to her knees. Daroga walked over to her and helped her up.

"I have told Erik what happened. It was not your fault but he is very weak. I have done what I can for him; the only thing that is required to get him better is bed rest." He explained.

"For how long?" She asked.

"Two or three weeks."

Christine looked down at the floor. "How bad is it?" She asked, dreading the answer.

"Not as bad as it could have been but don't forget, he is not as young as he once was. The wounds are not deep, however they can easily be infected, and he had a bit of a blow to the head. It may cause him to be a little disoriented for the next few days."

Daroga cleared his throat before he asked the next question. "Did his mother do this to you?"

Tears still streaming down her face she nodded "Yes."

Erik coughed. And opened his eyes. And lifted his head to see Christine and Daroga. "Christine? You're awake."

Christine ran over to him and flung herself onto his chest. Porsche leapt out of the way. Erik made a wheezing noise and a groan. Followed by coughing and spluttering.

"Erik, I'm sorry I'm so sorry." She howled. "What have I done to you?"

"It's alright; you didn't know what you were doing. I will live." He wheezed.

Christine heard Porsche give a soft mew; she looked down at the cat. "I'm sorry I hurt you Porsche." She bent down and stroked the cat. The cat seemed to accept the apology and acted like she would have done normally.

"Well at least she forgives me too."

Erik coughed again. "Cats don't hold grudges." He paused breathing heavily. "Christine did my mother…"

"Yes, it was her." She cut in.

"What happened?"

"After I left you, I returned up to my room to have a nap, but I couldn't settle. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door, I called out but no one answered. There was another knock followed by a low whisper. It said 'help me.' I opened the door and Catherine slashed my arm with a knife." She stopped and looked at the bandage on her arm. "She grabbed my wrist and poured some liquid on it. It stung madly, then she pushed me over and I blacked out." She paused to think about what had happened next. "Then I remember trying to attack you. I tried to stop, but it was like something controlling me. And then… then…"

Christine turned so ghostly pale Erik and Daroga thought she would faint.

"I was going to kill you!" She whispered. "… and I would have done, if that sword had not been kicked out of my hand."

Daroga led her to sit down. "Take it easy mademoiselle." He soothed.

Her head was spinning, wild thoughts going round her head. _I would have killed him! But that's what she wanted, to poison me against him. This is all her fault! _Her breathing became more rapid and heavy. _That woman truly has no heart. I knew she was bad news but what she has done is evil. Erik has been seriously wounded, by me, but she was pulling the strings. That's what she has been so happy about; she must have had this planned for a while! _With each thought she became angrier and angrier. _She made me try to kill the man I love!_

Her head suddenly snapped up. She stood up and paced out of the room. "Christine!" Erik called after her. "Where are you going?"

Christine did not reply. She headed out for the boat and began to row across the lake. She got to the other side and continued to march up the passageway towards the lift. All the way back up to the surface there was only one thought in her head.

**Revenge!**


	33. Confrontations

Chapter 33 – Confrontations

Christine marched through the gap left by the mirror, entering her room. However as she reached her door and began to turn the handle, she paused for a moment thinking.

What good will it do if I go shouting accusations at her? I have no proof that she did this to me; it would be my word against hers.

An idea suddenly hit her; she felt herself grinning as she thought it over.

Yes! I will make her pay for this. This will work to my advantage; I just need to play this the right way.

Christine must have stood there for a good five minutes before opening the door and slamming it shut after her. She raced down the corridor, going through her plan in her mind. All she wanted to do now was to find Catherine.

She was thankful for being the Prima Donna more than ever at this point, as well as being able to sing, she could act. Acting would be required to execute this plan. The only trouble was she had to be convincing.

Again she stopped. This time she was thinking about her father and how upset she had been when she visited his grave the day before the first performance of 'Faust'. Tears came quickly to her eyes. She continued to think about the memories of her father which caused more tears to flow. She felt her eyes going red and her vision becoming slightly blurred.

Looking down she made a run for the dining room.

-

"Daroga, I must go after her." Erik stated, attempting to sit upright.

"No Erik. I'm sure she knows what she is doing." The Persian answered, trying to calm him down.

"There is no telling what could happen between her and my mother. I need to be sure." Erik said standing upright out of bed. This was not a good idea, for he had a sudden head rush and collapsed back onto the bed.

"Erik, I told you not to get up."

"Yes, and I can see why." He groaned, pressing the cold flannel that Daroga had just handed him to his forehead.

"What do you think she will do?" The Persian asked.

"What ever she needs to do." he answered. "I just hope it is not anything too rash."

Daroga smirked. "She won't. Besides, that's your job."

Erik smiled. "I suppose that is true."

Daroga headed towards the door. "I shall leave you to get some sleep now, but call if you want anything and I will let you know when Christine returns."

"I appreciate it, thank you."

Daroga departed, leaving Erik to try and sleep. However Erik was not one for sleeping and lay awake for a while. Porsche curled up on his chest snoozing.

I hope you know what you are doing Christine.

-

Christine entered the dining room in floods of tears. Everyone looked up at her with concerned looks upon their faces. Catherine however was smiling.

"What's the matter miss Daae?" Asked one of the managers.

Christine said nothing and raised an arm on the end an accusing finger pointing directly at Catherine. "That woman." All eyes in the room turned to face the patron looking at her questioningly. "She attacked me." Christine finished.

The room gasped. Catherine looked angrily at Christine. "The child does not know what she is talking about. I did no such thing."

"Then what do you call this?" She yelled holding out her arm where the scar from the huge gash was. She had removed the bandaging earlier.

She moved her arm around for everyone to see. As soon as they had all seen the gash all eyes turned back to Catherine who became very discomforted by this and got up and made a hasty exit. Christine followed in her wake, leaving the room echoing with whispers.

"Very smart Christine. But you cannot prove that I did it." She whispered slyly.

"Well making a quick exit like that just shows you are guilty." Christine snapped back. Forcing more tears to flow down her cheeks.

"Is there another reason for you being like this?"

"You damn well know there is!" She hissed. "Using me to kill a mistake that happened all those years ago."

"Well my dear, it was you who killed him, not I." She said, smiling evilly.

"You are nothing but poison, I killed him unintentionally. It was really you pulling the strings." Christine sobbed. "Why couldn't you have killed me? I loved Erik." She shrieked.

"Awwww boo hoo." Catherine mocked, half laughing. "Well it was one way of getting rid of him. I'm surprised that he lasted at the circus. He is an animal, oops… I meant **was**."

"YOU WITCH!" Christine screamed. Taking a run up she slammed all of her weight into the other woman, sending her crashing to the floor. Christine started to hit her, knee her and kick her as hard as she could.

"Christine!" Ivan ran up to the catfight between the two and pulled Christine off Catherine.

Christine pulled herself from Ivan's grasp. "Get off me!" She paused as she was panting. She had managed to scratch Catherine and give her a bloody nose. "I will make you pay for what you did to me." She whispered. Without giving anyone another glance she marched back to her room.

She could hear Ivan and Catherine's faint voices but managed to work out what they were saying.

"She just attacked me for no reason. I swear I did not touch her." Catherine was protesting

"Alright, we will talk about this later on. Let's go and get you cleaned up."

When she reached her room she sat on her bed and smiled. _Perfect, she believes Erik is dead. All I need to do now is work out how to get back at her. This will work, as he needs to rest, and I guess when he is better he will finish off his 'Don Juan'. So there is no need for him to make an appearance until the ball – That's it! – That's when I will get her back and expose her for the woman she really is._

"Christine?" Came a voice from behind the mirror. "It's Daroga, may I come in?"

"Yes, of course." She replied. The mirror slid into the ground and the Persian walked through.

"I left Erik to get some rest. I thought you might be here. We were both concerned after you stormed off like that."

"I'm sorry. I was just so angry at what that woman did to me. But I have sorted it out."

Daroga looked puzzled. "What do you mean you have sorted it out?"

"Trust me Daroga. I know what I'm doing. Let's just say I have a plan to get back at her." She said, menace laced in her voice.

"I never had you down as that type."

Christine chuckled. "I didn't either. But I love Erik. What she did was just pure evil. What would have happened if I really did kill him? I have not been so happy since before my father died. She has no right to take it away from me or Erik and she certainly had no right to sell him as a mere child."

"I understand but, as a friend, I will give you a friendly warning: Be careful about this. It may do more harm than good, in your case anyway and for others." He said softly.

"I will. But I need to speak to Erik to tell him what is happening and what happened between me and his mother."

"Alright we shall go to see him. I doubt that he is sleeping. He isn't the sleepy type. I just hope he has not attempted to get out of bed." He replied.

They both went through the mirror leaving her room empty once more.

-

Catherine was sitting down in one of the guest rooms when a knock came at the door. "Who is it?" She called.

"It's only me step-mother." Called Zurie.

"Come on in child." She replied.

Zurie walked in and took a seat opposite Catherine. "What do you want Zurie?"

"What happened between you and Christine earlier? Was it really you who gave her that gash in her arm?" She threw the question at her.

"No, don't be so ridiculous, why…" She started.

"Well I know what you are really like. Pity my father doesn't believe me about Erik." She cut in.

"So, you two have met each other. Too bad your little finding of each other was so short lived." Catherine said with a sarcastic sigh.

"…Short lived?" Zurie whispered in puzzlement. "What do you mean short lived?"

"Erik is dead. Christine killed him but she is blaming me for it." She said completely unconcerned.

Zurie said nothing for a moment. "I don't believe you. She would never want him dead. It's only you who would. You proved that all those years ago when you sold him to the circus." She spat at Catherine.

Catherine smiled. "He belonged with them. If you don't believe me why don't you go and ask Christine?"

"I will, and my father will eventually see sense and realise that you don't love him. You have only ever loved the money. And I'm a complete idiot for not seeing it sooner. You and your false kindness." She said snidely.

"Say what you will about me, but it won't ever make any difference. Your father married me because he loves me and he trusts me. If you continue like this it will only cause a rift between you two."

Zurie realized that what Catherine had just said was partly true. _It's already happened._

She didn't say anything and ran out of the room. This situation was getting more complicated, and now Catherine was saying that Christine had killed Erik. What if it was true?

She shook her head firmly. _No, I don't believe her lies. I'm sure Erik is fine wherever he is._

-

Daroga opened the door to the room where Erik was resting and peered inside. Erik had dropped off and Porsche was in the same place. He quietly shut the door and turned to Christine who was stood behind him. "He is sleeping. We should leave him to get some rest. The body heals itself quicker when someone is asleep."

"Yes alright. Shall we go into the library for a while?" Christine asked.

"Yes that would be nice, besides there was something I needed to talk to you about, but firstly would you care for something to eat or drink?"

"Nothing to eat for the moment, but a cup of tea sounds good." She replied.

"Very well I shall bring it in for you. Then I will discuss this matter with you." With that he left in the direction of the kitchen.

Christine turned and walked in the opposite direction and entered the library, the shrine to books. Indeed this was a pleasant room and it seemed that there was every book in the world on these shelves. She sat down in one of the red armchairs thinking.

_What does Daroga want to talk to me about? Can it be something important? I hope Erik wakes soon. I must tell him my plan. I do believe she thinks he is dead; I just have to keep pretending he is. Ivan does not know about Erik, he needs to hear it straight from the horse's mouth, a confession from her. But how would I get one out of her?_

"Your tea Christine." Daroga's said as he entered the room carrying a silver tray on which were two cups, some milk and sugar. One of the cups looked like the regular brown colour before milk was added, the other one was clear except for a slight green tint to it.

"Thank you." She smiled at the Persian, looking at the strange green colored drink. Daroga saw she was looking curiously at it.

"It's herbal tea." He told her taking his cup off the tray. "It's rather soothing, and I prefer it to normal tea."

"Oh right. I just wasn't sure what it was that's all. Not many people drink it in the opera house." She said before adding the milk to hers.

Daroga took a sip of his then placed it down on his knee. "As I have told Erik, I found out what that substance does; the one that his mother placed on your arm in the cut."

"Well I know it controls people."

"Yes, but I have managed to trace where it has come from. You see in my home country of Persia a Daroga is actually a chief of police. No one calls me by my real name much. But I'm called Daroga because that was my profession years ago. That's where I came across a case similar to this." He paused taking another sip of tea. Christine was watching him intently.

"But I was able to trace where the potion came from. It goes by the name of Narkèsado just so you know. And I know Paris reasonably well due to my businesses here. I managed to trace it to a place called Agatha's Apothecary which is a couple of streets away from here in easy walking distance. The potion is very rare and is usually only used by gypsies for witch craft."

Christine finished off her tea. "Could I find proof that Catherine was there?"

"I expect so. I think they write down a list of what has been used, and get customers to sign something as it's not actually legal to sell those sorts of potions in Paris."

_That's what I need for proof, to go and find this place and ask the owner. _Christine thought.

"I see and Erik doesn't know about this?" She asked.

"No, not yet, I will explain my findings to him when he awakens, but I thought you had a right to know." He replied.

Christine nodded before looking back at Daroga and asking: "You said Daroga was not your real name?"

"No one calls me by it any more, I am commonly known as the Persian, close friends or business partners know me as Daroga."

"What is your real name?"

"Khan, Nadir Khan." The Persian replied.

"Why doesn't Erik call you Nadir?"

"He has always known me as and called me Daroga. It was only my family who called me Nadir." He said sadly.

"What happened to your family?" She asked. But quickly added: "If you don't mind my asking."

"No, no." He said. "It was along time ago."

He continued. "I won't go into every detail but I will give you the outline of what happened. I was the Daroga, head of the police department in Persia. My job was locking away criminals. Well as you can guess I made a few enemies but there was one named Isaac Armster. He was a leader of a group of criminals, which we arrested and brought to justice. Funny thing was that we used to be good friends when we were very young but we grew up and went our separate ways." He chuckled slightly. "I went to one end of the scale and he went to the other. He swore revenge against me and my wife and children after I arrested him. He escaped while I was out on a job. I got a message from my department of a break in at my home. Well, I jumped onto the nearest horse and took off as fast as I could, only to find that I was too late. My wife had been knifed to death, and my children smothered." He paused as his breathing had become slightly ragged. "I knew who was behind it. Eventually I found him and as much as I wanted to avenge my family/ it was in the hands of the law, and I was the one who upheld it. Isaac was sentenced to death. After that I resigned. I took off to France, which is where I met Erik. I couldn't stay in Persia with those memories haunting me."

"My god, I'm so sorry." Christine whispered.

"You want to know something?" Daroga asked.

"What?"

"Ever since Erik met you he became a different person. Even though you didn't know about him, his love for you has given him another purpose in life. There are two things that matter most to Erik, you and his music." He smiled.

"I didn't change him. He changed himself. But I really love him Nadir."

The Persian looked up and smiled. "It's nice to be called by my real name again. Thank you."

"It's alright if I call you that?"

"Yes, I welcome it."

At that point the door was pushed open and Porsche came trotting in. 'Meow' announced her arrival. Daroga and Christine both looked at her. "Hello Porsche." Christine said.

"I expect she has come in to tell us that our dear Erik has awoken from his slumber." As he said this Porsche headed back out the door. "I will take that as a yes then." He said as they both got up and followed Porsche out of the door.

Erik watched his two guests enter and greeted them with a smile.

"My dear friend, how are you feeling?" Daroga asked him.

"A lot better after that snooze, thank you." His eyes looked toward Christine. "Christine, are you alright? What happened?"

"I will explain everything to both of you in a moment. I'm just glad you feel better." Christine went to sit on the chair beside him, and held his hand.

"Christine, what happened?" He asked again clearly not wanting to wait.

Christine gave in and began to tell Daroga and Erik what had happened between her and Catherine. And her plan to get back at her.

"She thinks I'm dead." He said sarcastically. "Well that's what she wanted. She will get a very nasty shock when I come back from the grave." Christine could not help but smirk.

"Ivan doesn't know about you. If he were to find out he would surely leave her, having been lied to for all those years."

"Yes, it certainly would bring disgrace on his family." Erik agreed. "You had better get back up to the surface, if you want to convince Catherine that I'm dead. She knows about the rumors of the opera ghost living underground. If you disappear she may suspect I'm still alive."

"But I want to stay here with you." She pleaded.

"I will keep in contact by writing to you. Porsche will bring the letters to your room." He replied.

"Also there is something I want to discuss with you. I have told Christine about it. But you need to know too."

Agatha's Apothecary I will need to find that place if I am to get some proof.

Christine did not attempt to argue. She had another thing on her agenda to take care of and so bid goodbye to Erik and the Persian, and returned to the surface.


	34. The Art of Persuasion

Chapter 34- The Art of Persuasion 

Christine was lying down on her bed thinking. A week had passed since her confrontation with Catherine. What pleased Christine greatly was the fact that it seemed to have had a noticeable effect on the way people acted around her. At one time Christine saw Firmin spot Catherine and then turn and walk in the opposite direction.

Christine had so many things on her mind now, one of which was the problem of getting the evidence of Catherine's attack. She could not think of an appropriate time to pay a visit to 'Agatha's Apothecary' because it would surely cause a lot of suspicion if she was seen in such a place.

Another, not so important problem was the dance that she had to prepare for the Masquerade ball. Since she was pretending that Erik was dead, it would not exactly be easy for her to go down to his home and work out a routine, but since the ball was not until August, this did not really matter too much.

Christine could not bear just lying there. She wanted to go and see Erik but knew that it would be a foolish thing to do. She got up and walked over to the door, thinking.

_Maybe if I sneak out at night…then nobody need ever know._ Christine checked her clock, it was getting late but she would have to wait a few more hours before leaving. This gave her time to come up with a proper plan.

Christine moved back over to her bed, lifted up the mattress and then pulled out a sword which was concealed under it. Attached to the sword was a note from Erik, which only had three words.

_Just in case…_

Christine thought that she had better take this with her to the apothecary. Being hit with one potion was one thing, but being surrounded by lots of potions with unknown effects made Christine a little nervous.

The minutes seemed to drag by as Christine paced up and down her room. She had been thinking about the directions that Daroga had given her earlier that week; she did not want to get lost.

Then there was the problem she faced when she got there, having never met Agatha she did not know how easy or difficult it would be to get the evidence from her. For all she knew this 'Agatha' could be even more horrible than Catherine.

After what seemed like days rather than hours, the time had finally come for Christine to leave. Putting on her cloak and exiting her room, she silently made her way to the front door of the Populaire. It was very fortunate for her that the doorman was only on duty during the day and not at night as well.

Stepping out into the cold night air, Christine admired just how beautiful Paris looked at night. She could not linger however, the task at hand was much to important for that. Christine pulled her hood over her head and started to head off quickly in the direction that Daroga had told her.

She soon found out that the Apothecary wasn't as close to the Opera House as Daroga had made out. She walked down the bright streets of Paris for what seemed like a good half an hour before finally coming to a very gloomy looking alleyway. Without pausing, she made her way down it.

The atmosphere changed instantly. Christine felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she slowly walked down the alley. In no time at all, Christine was standing outside the rotten wooden door marked 'Agatha's Apothecary'. Making sure her sword was securely fastened and easily accessible, she knocked three times… no answer, she knocked harder.

"Who is it?" Shouted a very weedy voice from the opposite side of the door.

"I'm a customer." Replied Christine in an unnaturally high voice which sounded nothing like her own.

There was a short pause, when the voice, which Christine supposed must be Agatha's, called out again. "Well you should know that I need a letter of notice then."

Christine had not been expecting this.

_It is time to expect the unexpected from now on Christine. _She thought to herself.

"I'm sorry… I didn't have time, you see…" She paused to think of what excuse she could possibly use. "… My needs for your services are very urgent."

There was another pause, followed by the sound of a lock clicking, the door swung open slightly, and Christine entered, coughing as she inhaled some very odd smelling fumes.

"And what services do you require my dear?" Said Agatha as the door closed behind Christine.

Christine mustered up all of her self control so as not to shake, the aura that Agatha gave off unnerved Christine a great deal. Christine lowered her hood and stared directly at Agatha.

"I want to see your records of previous customers." She said, in a much braver voice than she felt.

Agatha let out a high Pitched cackle. "And why would I want to show you them my dear?"

Christine gave a very evil smirk. "You want to know why?" She said, taking a bold step towards the hag. "I've got a very good reason why…"

"I'm listening!" Shrieked Agatha in a high pitched mocking voice; Christine drew her sword and held it at her throat. "Like I said… I'm listening." Her voice was now serious.

"One week ago you had a customer who goes by the name of Catherine Beaumont…" Began Christine, making her voice as cool as she possibly could. "…I want the records that show what she purchased and when."

Christine could see Agatha start to sweat, her eyes were wide and fearful, and her hands were trembling. "And why… would you want such a thing?"

Christine pulled up her sleeve so that the cut on her arm was visible to Agatha. Christine noticed her lips twitch slightly at the sight of it. Christine pressed the blade of the sword harder against Agatha's neck.

"In the drawer… over there." Agatha jerked her head to what was clearly her writing desk. It was very dusty and had jars of what looked like eyes and live spiders on it.

Christine seized Agatha by the arm with her free hand and pulled her over to the desk with her. Keeping the blade against Agatha's neck, she let go of her arm and opened the desk drawer, pulling out some pieces of parchment.

It took her a few minutes to find everything she wanted, a purchase for two thousand one hundred francs, made by Catherine Beaumont, and letters addressed to the apothecary, signed by Catherine Beaumont. Christine put them in her inside cloak pocket.

"Are you going to kill me?" Asked Agatha, nervously.

Christine put on an expression of mock sweetness. "Oh no…" She began, then she pulled out a vial of clear liquid from her cloak pocket. "…You are not the only person who is talented at potion making."

She took the stopper out of the vial and forced the liquid down Agatha's throat. Christine saw her eyes begin to droop.

"By the time you wake up, you will remember nothing." Christine turned and left, hearing the 'thud' of Agatha's body hitting the floor.

_Thank you Nadir…_ She thought to herself, as she replaced the vial in her cloak pocket. Pulling her hood back up over her head, she made her way quickly back to the Opera Populaire. She felt slightly light headed due to the fumes, but also felt triumphant at getting what she wanted.

She made it safely back to the sanctuary of her room in what seemed like no time at all. She thought that it would be best to leave the letters with Erik. Fortunately for her, Porsche was curled up on Christine's bed and so she walked over to her and gently shook the cat awake.

Porsche yawed, and looked up at Christine with tired eyes. "I need you to take these to Erik, Porsche."

The cat took the letters in her mouth and then headed over to the mirror. Christine went to replace the sword under her mattress, and by the time she had turned back round to watch Porsche leave, she was watching the mirror slide back into place.

-

Erik had fallen asleep at his piano, a quill loosely gripped in one hand, and his other resting on the ivory keys.

He started to mutter incomprehensibly, and his free hand started to press down gently on the keys, his muttering became louder, until eventually he sprang back to consciousness and shouted…

"D Flat Major!" Then he began to scribble on the parchment so fast that it might have caught fire.

Erik let out a sigh as he finished the line of music that he was currently working on. He then felt something nuzzling at his ankles, looking down he saw Porsche, and in her mouth some pieces of parchment. He leant down and relieved her of the burden she was carrying, and was surprised to see that it was not a letter from Christine as he was expecting, but a letter from his mother, however it was not addressed to him, it was addressed to Agatha.

_Agatha,_

_I am in need of a potion that causes loss of self control, preferably resulting in the death of anybody who comes across the victim's path, please write back with a time for me to come and see you about payment._

_Yours truly,_

_Catherine Beaumont._

Erik smiled as he realised what the letter was, putting it down on the piano, he unfolded the second piece of Parchment which was also a letter.

_Thank you very much, I shall be there at that time, please make sure the potion is ready if possible._

_Catherine._

Erik placed this letter on top of the previous one, and then unfolded the last piece of Parchment, which unlike the other two was not a letter.

_Narkèsado- Quantity, 1 Vial. Cost 2100 francs._

_Signature of Buyer- Catherine Beaumont._

On the other side of the parchment was a date and time, Erik's eyes sparkled and he was positively beaming as he placed the final piece of parchment on top of the two letters. He then went into his study, pulled out parchment, ink and quill, then began to write.

_Christine,_

_I am at a loss for words. This is undeniable proof that my witch of a mother was indeed at the Apothecary. My only concern is how you managed to get a hold of these letters and the documents._

_Please write back soon._

_Love Erik._

_-_

Christine read through the letter several times, she finally made up her mind that she was going to go down and see him. After all, it had been nearly a week since she had last seen him, and he would be resting.

_Since when has Erik ever done what he is told?_ Christine smiled to herself, she could just picture Erik on the stool in front of his grand piano, scribbling away madly at a half finished score of his 'Don Juan'.

Christine was stroking Porsche, thinking, then got up and walked over to the mirror. It was late at night so nobody would know that she had gone, would they? Before going down the dark passage, she went over to her door to make sure that it was locked.

Taking a few steps down the corridor, she clicked her fingers to ignite the torches and then turned to see the mirror slide back into place. After a long and uneventful trip down to Erik's home, Christine got out of the boat and made her way to the music room, where she was not surprised to see Erik sitting at the piano, bashing away at the keys.

Erik had obviously heard her enter the room. He turned round on his stool, and gave her a very wide smile. Christine was surprised to see that Erik was not wearing his mask.

"Finally learning to live without it?" She asked, walking over to him, Erik gave a weak grin in return and got to his feet.

"It was itching…so I." He could not finish his sentence due to Christine's lips being pressed against his, he felt her smile.

"You should take it off more often…" Christine whispered to him, after finally breaking apart. "... What your face looks like doesn't change who you are."

Erik smiled and looked at the ground. "How did you get these?" He held up the three pieces of Parchment that Christine had sent down earlier.

"I paid a visit to Agatha of course." She replied in an off-hand sort of voice.

Erik sighed. "I meant how did you get them from Agatha?"

"Using the art of… persuasion." Christine sounded very mysterious, and Erik's expression turned to one of curiosity.

"Gun point?"

"No…" This made Erik look even more curious. "…Sword Point."

"You didn't kill…!"

"I didn't need to, she co-operated." She said quickly, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Then how can you be sure she is not going to go to the police?" To his great surprise, Christine chuckled.

"Nadir… I mean Daroga, made me a potion which should help her to forget."

Erik then remembered that Daroga had experience in potion brewing, Erik didn't believe in those sorts of things. In his experience, swords and lasso's were much more reliable and trustworthy.

"You should have left it for me to do" He said sternly, looking Christine straight in the eye.

"I thought you would rather be composing, besides, I got what we wanted, and like you said in the letter, there is no way she can deny any of this." These words seemed to reassure Erik. "How is your 'Don Juan Triumphant' coming along?"

"It will be finished before you know it." He replied brightly. "It's always difficult when I start a new song, but once I get into it, the music just seems to…" Erik looked as though he had just remembered something very important. He then seized his quill and scribbled out the key signature on the score. "D sharp not D flat."

Christine started to giggle at his seriousness and then Christine looked as though she had remembered something very important.

"Erik…" She began, very serious. "When are we going to start working out a routine for the ball?"

It took Erik a while to work out what she was talking about. Then he remembered that the managers wanted her to do a dance with somebody to end the ball.

"Are you sure you want to do the dance with me?" As soon as he had finished asking the question he realised just how stupid it must have sounded.

"Of course I'm sure. I can't think of anybody else in the world I would rather do this dance with." She said in barely more than a whisper, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Erik paused for a moment, thinking. "I am so close to finishing my 'Don Juan'. If I can just concentrate on finishing it for a few more days then we can start practicing the dance immediately."

Christine smiled, and Erik held her tightly in his arms. The ball was starting to sound like it was going to be a night to remember indeed, but it would all be about careful preparation and thinking that would make it be remembered for the right reasons.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Erik would have liked to have replied with a 'Yes, of course', but knew he couldn't.

"No." He replied bluntly, Christine looked sullen. "It's dangerous for you to be here now."

"Why?" Asked Christine. "Nobody is going to come and check on me in the middle of the night are they?"

Erik was still fighting the urge to say yes to her first question as he replied. "Would you really put it past that witch to come and sneak round your room in the middle of the night to check if you have mysteriously vanished?"

Christine could tell that this was one battle that she was not going to win. It was true that Catherine had already shown to what lengths she would go to get her own way, and if she was looking for a way to verify whether Erik was dead she might even at that very moment be on her way down to his lair.

"Ok, when will I next see you?" Christine asked, down-heartened.

Erik thought for a moment. "I will come to you next time. There is enough space in your room to practice for the dance, and if anybody comes to check on you I can slip out through the mirror in an instant."

The two of them kissed passionately one more time, before Christine turned and headed for the boat. When she was alone in her room once more, she thought about everything that had happened that night.

_I did it! I managed to get the evidence on that witch. All I have to do now is wait for the ball, and she will be gone for sure!_

These last thoughts comforted her as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep, no doubts or worries in her mind, except the thoughts of the dance with Erik…

-

_So the rumours are that the Phantom of the Opera lives… lived beneath the Opera house… _Thought Catherine to herself as she lay in bed awake. She had been finding it very difficult to sleep since her encounter with Christine. People did not trust her much anymore, so she would have to be careful. There had been so many incidents that led her to believe she was not trusted, such as the one with Firmin deliberately avoiding her.

She continued to think. That was all she seemed to do anymore, hardly talking to anybody, just keeping herself to herself.

Well my son, even if you are dead, it doesn't stop there… It is far from over…I will not rest until I find what lies beneath the floors of the Opera house…


	35. An Interrupted Dance

Chapter 35- An Interrupted Dance 

The Masquerade ball was drawing ever nearer. It was now less than two months away, and already excitement was starting to flare in the Opera House. One very noticeable person was Meg, who was already starting to fuss about several things, such as what dress she was going to wear and what sort of mask to buy.

The two managers, who had not been seen much during Faust's run, were starting to announce the arrangements for the ball. Christine was not very impressed when they told everyone at breakfast that she would be doing a dance to close the night and even more unimpressed when they asked if she had decided on a partner yet. She could hardly say that she was going to be dancing with the 'Opera Ghost'.

One thing that kept Christine in high spirits however, was the knowledge that Catherine was now completely shunned by everyone except Ivan, and even he seemed to be keeping his distance whenever possible. It was still unnerving for Christine at meal times. Catherine always smiled her evil smile at Christine, and Christine could not help but think that she was planning another wicked scheme.

It was one morning after breakfast that André caught up with Christine.

"Miss Daae, I know that you will probably think this a stupid question since we have asked you before… but the ball is drawing closer and well…" He looked very nervous as if Christine was going to be angry with him, even though he had not asked her a question yet. "…Have you got a partner for the Dance? Have you started rehearsing? Because time is running out and…."

"Monsieur André, please…!" Said Christine, nearly shouting. "…Yes, I have got a partner for the ball, but we have not started rehearsing just yet, but I do promise you that it will be ready and perfected by the time it needs to be."

André looked a little embarrassed, so he simply nodded and said, "Very well, good day Miss Daae." Before heading off in the opposite direction.

Much to Christine's distress however, Catherine then came out of the dining room. She spotted Christine almost instantly and walked briskly in her direction. Christine turned on her heels to try and get away from her but she was too late. Catherine grasped her elbow to stop her from escaping.

"What is the rush, Christine?" Asked Catherine in her falsely sweet voice.

"Let me go." Hissed Christine through gritted teeth.

"Oh… what's the matter?" She asked, putting on a mocking baby voice. "Afraid the mean old Catherine is going to scratch you again, hahaha!"

Christine's nostrils flared with anger. "If you don't let me go you old witch then the injury I'm going to give you will be more than a scratch." Her voice was filled with rage. After Catherine's attack on her Christine had become much less timid than her old self.

"Is that so?" Catherine asked, her voice more serious yet still mocking. "Well then Miss Daae…" She released her grip on Christine. "…Why don't you crawl back to the sewers. I'm sure you'd feel right at home there having been with that deformed rat."

Christine turned round and started to walk as fast as she could away from Catherine. Luckily she did not try to follow her but instead called out, "But then I suppose rats look better than that Devil did."

Christine's pace quickened. _Not long now… just you wait you witch. By the time of the Masquerade ball you will be wishing you never said that._

Christine returned to her room in a state of complete rage. She could not bear looking at that horrible woman, let alone talking to her. Locking the door behind her as she entered her room, she went over to her bed and collapsed on it, heavily.

"OUCH!" Christine jumped back to her feet. She had landed on something very solid, which turned out to be Erik. "You know I'm still not one hundred percent, so there is no need to try and kill me." He sounded like he had been winded and yet still managed to let out a small chuckle.

Erik got to his feet, massaging his ribs which Christine had apparently landed on. She then noticed that in his left hand he was holding a leather-bound folder.

"What is that?" She asked, gesturing towards the folder, even though she had a very good idea what it was.

"This…?" Erik replied, holding it up, Christine nodded. "… The finished score, my masterpiece is finally complete!"

Erik opened the folder. Christine let out a gasp. Inside was what must have been the largest score for an Opera that Christine had ever seen, hundreds of pages of music. Christine flipped through the pages, being sure not to ruin the order which they were in. Christine was not the best person at reading music, but from what little knowledge she did have she could tell that it was extremely complicated.

"The Orchestra are going to have their work cut out for them." She whispered, still mesmerized by the music she was holding.

After several minutes of scanning through the music, during which Erik seemed to be waiting nervously for her opinion, Christine thought that Erik must have accidentally missed something out.

"Where is your 'Music of The Night'?" Christine was quite sure that this was one of Erik's own compositions, and therefore could not work out why he had not included it in his 'Don Juan'.

Erik smiled. "We should not be talking here…" He began. "… Too risky." He walked over to the mirror, pressed his foot down on the tile, and the mirror sank down into the floor.

"But I thought you said it was too dangerous for me to go to your home…" Erik smiled again, and Porsche came plodding through the mirror-frame.

"But that was before I thought of a reliable early warning system." He knelt down and started to softly stroke Porsche, who mewed her gratitude to Erik. Erik went over and unlocked the door for Porsche and then returned to the mirror. "Shall we?" He held out a hand towards Christine.

Porsche stayed behind in Christine's room. Christine realised that if anyone came along then she would come down and warn them. After a slow trip down to Erik's home, they disembarked from the boat and made their way into the music room, where Christine was surprised to see Daroga.

Christine looked up at Erik questioningly. "You can't expect me to play an instrument and dance at the same time, can you?"

To be truthful Christine did not know that they were going to start working out a routine for the dance right then, but then she remembered that Erik said that they would when he had finished his 'Don Juan'.

"I suppose not. I just didn't know that Nadir could play an instrument." Daroga smiled at the sound of his real name.

"I wouldn't say I am Mozart, but I can just about play the piano."

Both Erik and Christine chuckled at Daroga's joke as he sat down at the piano. A sudden thought then occurred to Christine. It was so obvious that she did not know how she had not thought of it before.

"What sort of dance are we going to be doing, and what music are we going to be dancing to?"

Erik considered her question for a moment before answering, somewhat cautiously. "I thought I would leave that choice to you. Having been a former ballet ra… girl I thought that you would have a good idea of what you would like to do."

It was Christine's turn to think now. _What is my main strength in dance?_ Truth be told, the ballet was mainly solo dancing, not two people. Then it came to her, a dance that she had always wanted to do but couldn't due to the fact that she very rarely had a partner in the ballet.

"A Tango?" Christine thought that this would be quite appropriate; after all, Erik did seem to really like roses, which was a common thing to use in a Tango.

Erik looked a little surprised at her decision. "Funny… I have always imagined you as more of a ballroom dancer, not a Latin dancer."

Christine smiled. "I've always thought that Ballroom was a bit boring and easy… so I thought why not do a Latin dance?"

"You do know how complicated a Tango is don't you?" Came Daroga's voice from the piano.

"I'm sure I will find out soon enough." Replied Christine. "I would rather that you chose the music though Erik."

Erik did not answer, but instead nodded, then headed in the direction of the library. While he was gone Daroga gave Christine a lesson about the basics of the Tango. A few minutes later Erik returned with a five page score. Christine did not have time to read the title before it was placed in front of Daroga.

Daroga started to play the music, there were a few very noticeable mistakes in his first attempt, but by the time he had played it through a few times, he announced that he was confident with it and that they could now start.

"Right…" Sighed Erik. "… The first run through will just be to get a feel for the music, then after that we can start to work out a routine, alright?"

Christine nodded. Erik put his right hand on Christine's waist, and with the other took Christine's right hand.

"And after three…" Began Daroga. "One…two…three…"

-

"Crawl back to the sewers… Crawl back to the sewers…." Catherine was muttering to herself, skimming through some large papers.

"Can I help you Madame?" Came a woman's voice, walking over to her.

"If I needed help then I think I would have asked for it, wouldn't I?" Catherine snapped back at her.

The woman looked shocked at her rudeness, so she turned round and left. Catherine was in the public library, looking through the archives of the Populaire. It did not take her very long at all to find what she was looking for. In fact she found it almost instantly. A structural layout of the entire building, including it's sewers.

Catherine continued to study the blueprints of the Opera House, carefully taking note of which rooms the sewage system ran under. One thing that did confuse her however, was the fact that nobody could possibly live down there. The space was too confined to really be able to make a home in at all.

She was just about to give up looking, when one particular spot on the map caught her eye. There was a sewage tunnel, larger than the rest, running right under what must have been Christine Daae's room. She was just about to look at it more closely, when she saw another one running right underneath the entrance hall, and then a third under a corridor.

Catherine thought that at least one of these was worth a look. It would not be easy for her to get into Christine's room but in the entrance hall…

_Wait until all the lights are out and the children are asleep… then search the hall for anything suspicious… hehehe._

"Madame I am sorry but you are going to have to leave. It is closing time." Said the librarian.

Catherine checked the clock on the far wall. It was only 8 o'clock and so she would just have to wait a couple of hours and then everyone would be asleep. Then she could make her move.

"Very well, I am terribly sorry for my rudeness earlier. I have not been feeling very well lately, and I do tend to snap at people." She said it in such a sweet voice that the woman smiled at her.

"Thank you very much." The woman then showed her out of the library. Catherine chuckled at the woman's stupidity.

_Foolish old Hag!_

Catherine made her way back to the Populaire with a new spring in her step. She was sure that she was right, and in a couple of hours she would be able to prove it. When she entered the building, there were very few people around.

_Maybe I will only have to wait one hour…_ She thought to herself. Not wanting to be seen waiting around in the hall, she headed up to the roof. After all she had no fear of Erik attacking her again, and it would be a nice place to wait.

-

"Now… you see… how difficult…" Erik was quite out of breath, they had been dancing now for just under an hour, and the fatigue was starting to take its toll.

"Yes…" Christine panted in reply.

They had made a small amount of progress in the short time that they had been dancing. Both of them had grasped the 3:4 beat of the tango, and were now starting to move with more confidence in what they were doing.

Yet, despite all of the progress they had made, they had still not come up with any sort of routine. Erik voiced his thought that maybe it would take longer to grasp than they both thought.

"I think… it is time for a break." Erik stammered. Christine nodded her agreement. Daroga then got to his feet.

"I'll make us all a cup of tea shall I?" The two of them looked over at him.

"As long as it is none of that herbal stuff that you can somehow manage to drink, my friend." Said Erik, slyly.

"Of course not…" Began Daroga, walking over to the door that led into the kitchen, "… I'll bring it through into the library, shall I?"

Christine nodded, and she and Erik made their way into the library, while Daroga went through into the kitchen.

"I'm surprised at how quickly you picked this style of dance up." Erik Admitted to Christine.

Christine blushed, took a seat in one of the arm chairs, and then looked over at Erik. "It's from having a great dance partner."

Erik gave a weak smile. Daroga entered the room a few minutes later carrying a tray with three cups of tea. Erik eyed the green tea suspiciously, wondering how Daroga could manage to drink such a foul thing.

-

Returning to the entrance hall, Catherine was pleased to see that there was nobody around. She could spend as much time as she wanted. As much time as she needed to find what she was looking for.

_What am I looking for?_ She thought to herself. Come to think of it, she did not know what she was meant to be searching for, a secret passage perhaps…

Catherine took a good look at the whole hall, trying to spot anything that looked out of place or suspicious but, looking around, it looked just as it always had done, statues, floor and staircase.

Catherine walked slowly up and down the staircase. Maybe there was a switch that would open up some sort of passage. She tried to picture the map in her mind. From what she could remember, the tunnel ran under the west side of the hall.

_Isn't it obvious?_ The statue on the left of the grand staircase caught her eye. She walked up to it and studied it. At a glance it looked like a normal statue, but Catherine had a knack for spotting things that were even the slightest bit out of place.

The eyes of the statue looked a little bit odd. Not something that was very noticeable, just odd. Catherine placed her fingers on the two eyes and then noticed that they were loose. She tried to take them out with no success and then tried to push them in. It was very difficult but she could just about push them towards the back of the statue's head.

The floor to the left of her had vanished, revealing a trap door space. Catherine smiled, and was just about to climb down into it when it closed. She turned back to look at the statue, the eyes had gone back into their original places.

Catherine chuckled quietly to herself, and then went to push the eyes back again.

MEOW!

Catherine jumped. At the top of the stairs was a black cat, staring at her with yellow eyes.

"Shoo!" She hissed at the cat. It did not move. Catherine ignored it and resumed pushing at the eyes.

It took her another few minutes to get the eyes to move again, and by the time the trapdoor had slid open next to her, the cat had gone. Not wasting any time, Catherine jumped into the hole, very thankful that it was not a very long drop at all. One problem she had not foreseen however, was the pitch black darkness that she was left in when the trapdoor shut.

She would have to make her way down the passage slowly and very carefully. With no light it was impossible to tell where there was a wall or maybe even stairs.

-

"Think you are ready to continue yet you two?" Asked Daroga, getting to his feet.

Christine got to her feet. "Yes, I think so." She said, moving towards the door that led back into the music room. "Are you still with us Erik?"

Erik had been staring blankly into space and then his face turned to an expression of mild surprise. "What… oh, yes, I was just thinking about the routine."

"You haven't got a routine yet." Said Daroga, wondering what Erik was talking about.

"Exactly, that's why I am thinking about what it could be." Christine started laughing and then walked into the music room, closely followed by Daroga and Erik.

"Right…" Said Daroga, once again sitting down at the piano. "After three, one…two… ARRRGGGHHH!"

The lid of the piano had just slammed down on his fingers, and sitting on top of it was none other than Porsche.

"Porsche!" Erik ran over to the cat, completely ignoring Daroga's cries of pain. "What is it? What is happening?"

The cat ran over to a small statue that was in the corner of the room, then started scratching at it and meowing loudly.

Erik looked stunned. "Oh no…"


	36. All that Remains

Chapter 36 – All that Remains

Christine looked alarmed. "Erik? What do you mean 'Oh no'?"

"We have to leave here at once!" Erik ordered.

"Erik, explain what is going on?" Daroga cut in. What ever was happening had taken his mind off his throbbing hand.

_It seems I have underestimated my mother. _"Catherine has managed to find a way to get into one of the passages. All of them end up here." He said quickly.

"Can't you stop her?" Christine asked.

"Yes, but if I did then she would know that someone was down here. Think about it; if I am supposed to be dead there would be no need for anyone to be down here. Christine you must return to the surface immediately." He said gathering a few things off the piano. "There is no time to explain. Porsche will take you back up to the surface avoiding the route my mother is using."

Christine looked around. _If she goes into the rooms she might think someone has been living here. _"But what about you? Where will you go?" She asked.

"Do not worry about me. Just leave now." He commanded. Taking the items he had in his arms into the library. He re-emerged, looking around for any other items he had missed.

"No." She said firmly. "I want to know that you're going to be safe."

Erik walked over to her and gently put his hand on her shoulders. "Christine. I will be fine. I am not going to let my mother find me. You have to trust me." _I want revenge on her as much as you do. I am not about to let her discover me._

Christine nodded. She then threw her arms around his neck and embraced him. He held her for a moment before planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Go. Daroga and I will gather what we need. It will be a while before she reaches here. She needs to make her way through complete darkness, which will slow her down a bit."

It's too much wishful thinking that she will end up in one of my traps. She seems to be a little too clever for her own good.

Porsche plodded off around the lake while Christine rowed the gondola to the other side. Erik watched her disappear then turned to Daroga who picked up the scores of music that were on the piano and handed them to him along with a leather bound one. "I thought you might want to keep these with you."

Erik took them and marched off to the library. He returned and pulled out a small key and locked it then placed it back in his cloak. He was still carrying his 'Don Juan'. "This is all I need. I have not dedicated the last several years of my life to writing this and have anything happen to it the second it has been completed." _I also need to go through it again just to be sure._

Daroga smiled but also he looked at a loss. "How is Christine going to get the boat back to us? There is no other way out, is there?" He asked Erik.

He smiled. "That's where your wrong my friend." Erik heard a noise and his head snapped over to the direction of the lake. _She has made it then. _"Come, quickly, this way." He ran over to a mirror nearby with Daroga following him. He pulled the curtain back and then thrusted the Don Juan score into Daroga's hands. "Hold this please." He asked as he grabbed the mirror and dragged it out of the way, revealing a passage behind it.

"I never knew that was there." The Persian said in surprise as he stepped through. Erik stepped in dragging the mirror back into place. Tilting it over slightly so he could reach a cord; he pulled on it making the curtain fall back into place.

"That's because I never told you. I didn't tell anyone. This was only to be used if I needed a quick escape." He whispered. "Come on, this is a straight passageway."

Daroga turned and headed deeper into the passage, Erik behind him. "Where does this lead?" Daroga asked.

"Outside the Opera House. Keep going." He instructed. He was thankful it was nighttime; that way no one could see him.

I cannot return for a while. I will wait a few days. I just hope that she continues to believe I'm dead.

-

Catherine had finally made it to the end of the passage. She stopped as she saw a little boat sitting on a lake. _I have to row across?_

As there did not seem any other way to get across Catherine carefully slid into the boat and sat down. Afraid she might capsize it if she stood up and rowed it. She positioned herself in the middle and picked up the oar that was leaning against the side and began to row.

She found it difficult sitting down. She had been rowing for what seemed like ages. _There is nothing here._ She thought despairingly. She looked down for a moment sighing. _I didn't travel down that long tunnel for nothing. I will find my dead son's home._ She thought and continued.

She felt her excitement rise when she saw what looked like land in front of her. She began to quicken the rowing. The gondola hit the shore. Catherine carefully balancing herself, stood up and got out of the boat. Her eyes stared in wonder. _You certainly did well for yourself when you were alive._

Her eyes caught a glimpse of the grand piano. She walked over to it and studied it carefully. _You always did like music, even when you were young. Too bad you could not take this to hell with you. _A wicked smile spread overCatherine's face.

She got up and had a wander round, looking in the rooms. The room with the swan bed caught her interest. _You must have really worshipped her. Treated her like a queen and look at how she repays you; She takes your life... Well that is half true. _

She looked in all the other rooms and had taken no particular interest in them. She came to the last room and tried to open the door. It was the library; the one that Erik had locked. His books that he had collected over the years held a lot of sentimental value for him. That was also where his music was kept. They meant more to him than any other items and so did the grand piano.

So what did you keep behind here? Probably nothing of importance. Oh well I don't suppose there is anything to do with your property. As I am your next of kin I will do as I see fit with this place.

-

Christine continued to act like she had done for the past week. Slightly depressed as she was pretending Erik was dead. She had not spoken to anyone about her incident and decided it would be best not to, as everyone was busy now preparing for the masquerade ball. However she was sure that Madame Giry knew what was going on. Erik always kept her informed.

Catherine seemed even more cheerful at breakfast that morning. Christine knew she had found her way down. She just prayed to god that Erik had got out in time. She felt her heart begin to race. She had used the gondola and they would have been trapped and unable to leave._ "Christine. I will be fine; I am not going to let my mother find me. You have to trust me." _Erik's voice ran through her head. But she was still unsure. She had to find out. Maybe Madame Giry knew.

"Meg." She elbowed her friend who was sitting in between her and Byron. As usual Meg and Byron were too busy talking and so Meg was totally unaware that her friend was trying to get her attention. "Meg." Christine tried again. Meg still did not respond. Christine cupped her hands round her mouth and placed them near Meg's right ear.

"MEG!" Christine shouted. This time Meg did hear her.

She whirled round. "What!" Meg seemed a little annoyed at being interrupted.

"I called your name twice before but you were so deep in conversation that you did not hear me!" Christine retorted.

Meg hung her head and her cheeks were pink with a mixture of shame and embarrassment. "Sorry Christine, What were you going to ask me?"

Christine gave a weak smile to show she wasn't upset with her friend. "I just wanted to know where your mother would be. I need to have a talk with her about the ball." Christine lied.

She knew if she didn't give a reason as to why she was going to see her mother then Meg would have probably put her foot in it by saying something along the lines of 'Is it to do with Erik?' As Catherine was near by, she didn't want to risk her overhearing his name.

In fact ever since Byron had courted Meg all she had ever done was go on about how 'wonderful' he was. She hadn't mentioned Erik at all, so Christine was not so worried but still couldn't risk it.

"I think she is in her office. She hasn't got her class until this afternoon." Meg replied.

Christine got up. "Thank you. Have a good day both of you and I'll catch up with you later." She said giving a sweet smile. They nodded, thanked her and told her they would look forward to it.

Christine caught Catherine looking at her out of the corner of her eye. She hated the fact that she was always giving her snide, sideways glances. Christine felt a shiver run down her spine and she quickly headed out of the dining room.

-

Madame Giry again had her head buried in paperwork, this now consumed half of her time, the other half she spent teaching. She hated to be interrupted, as there was far too much paperwork for her to get done. She was indeed a very busy woman.

She looked up from her work in annoyance as she heard a knock at the door.

_I don't have time… _"Come in." She called. Antoinette was expecting one of the managers again.

Her slight scowl disappeared as Christine peeked her head round the door. "Bonjour Madame." Christine smiled.

"Good morning dear." Madame Giry replied. She was always happy to see Christine.

Christine shut the door behind her and sat down opposite Madame Giry. "Madame, I was wondering if you had heard anything from Erik?"

Madame Giry did not say anything for a moment; she just stood up and looked behind where Christine was sitting. _That blasted cat is not with her. Thank heavens._

Christine glanced behind her, wondering what Madame Giry could be looking for, then it occurred to her: Porsche. "Madame, don't worry, she is not with me. I left her in my room."

"That's good to hear… now then… Erik, ah yes, he had the impertinence to come and wake me from my sleep, to tell me what happened last night." She sighed. _I can't ever seem to get any peace, let alone a decent night's sleep sometimes._

"Do you know where he is?" Christine asked. _At least he escaped in time. _Her tension dropped a little now she knew he was all right.

"He told me to tell you not to worry, and he will be back in a few nights, and also said that under no circumstances are you to return to his home. Not until he has been and checked for himself." She told her.

"Alright, but Madame, where is he?" Christine repeated.

"I expect he is staying with his friend the Persian somewhere. I know that he is staying somewhere nearby, possibly out of town. But that is all that I can tell you." Antoinette replied.

"Alright, thank you all the same. I will see you later then, and if you hear anything from Erik will you let me know?"

"Of course I will. Go and enjoy your day. Though I doubt that you can with that Catherine around all the time. I have noticed the way she looks at you." She told her, a scowl returning to her face.

"Yes, she is not the easiest person to get along with." Christine replied politely. _And she definitely is not the easiest person to like! _"Thank you Madame, have a good day." With that she walked towards the door and left, leaving Madame Giry to her paperwork.

_I wish I could, but paperwork is not that much fun_. Antoinette thought as she resumed her writing.

-

The day had passed. Erik thought it would be too soon to return, but he wanted to anyway. It had only been a day and he was anxious to see what had become of his home. Daroga was not with him; Erik had sneaked out and ridden the black stallion back to the Opera Populaire.

-

The previous night, he and Daroga had ended up outside of the Opera Populaire near a dark alleyway. Erik ran round to the stables so they had some transport to where Daroga was staying on the other side of Paris in a small inn. He had saddled Caesar and mounted him. Going round to where Daroga had waited patiently, he slid off the horse's back.

"I'm going to see Antoinette. Wait here. I won't be long." Erik said in a whisper.

While Daroga held onto the horse's bridle, Erik disappeared around the corner. He entered one of his passageways and made his way to Antoinette's room. As there was no secret passageway to get inside he would have to use the door. Fortunately it was unlocked. He guessed she left it unlocked in case something happened in the night.

He crept in and walked over to her 'Should I really wake her? I have a feeling she will get snappy if I do.'

Erik gently shook the sleeping Antoinette Giry awake. "Erik? What are you doing here?" She mumbled.

Erik began to explain what had happened and that he would return to the Populaire in a few days when he was sure it was safe to do so.

"Look after Christine for me please. Tell her not to go down to my home, and that I am fine." He finished, and then swept out of the door, leaving Antoinette to drift back into her sleep.

He rejoined Daroga about ten minutes later. Daroga was shivering. Erik could see his warm breath steam in the chill of the night sky. Erik mounted Caesar. "Come on. Unless you want to freeze to death." The Persian instantly mounted the horse, sitting behind Erik who gave Caesar a sharp kick in the ribs, which sent them galloping off into the night.

-

Erik entered the passageway and made his way along it slowly. It was twice as dark in here as it was outside.

He reached the mirror and pulled it out of the way, holding the curtain to one side while he stepped back into his lair. Things looked almost normal until he saw the charred pile of ash that lay in the middle of the hall near the grand piano. Erik's eyes widened. Catherine had taken what she could and burnt all of it.

He felt his anger rise. _She could not leave my things alone! She had to do that to wipe her memory of me completely! _

He ran and checked the rooms. Things that had not been burnt had been torn and trashed. Mirrors broken, pillows shredded, clothes ripped. And the rest burnt. He ran to the library and was pleased to find it was still locked and so he knew all that was there was safe. He retuned to his piano and that's when his anger for his mother was well and truly fueled.

She had bashed it with a club of some sort, denting it, snapping the wires and breaking the keys. The damage was beyond repair.

His books and his music scores were really the only items that had been spared and then only because he had locked the door and she had been unable to get into the room.

He sat down on the floor by the piano and buried his head in his hands. This was his world. It had been for most of his life. Here, where he could do as he pleased, he had spent years making this his home and making it the way he wanted. Over the space of a night most of it was gone. As he thought about his mother laughing as she trashed and burnt all his belongings his anger rose and rose.

Part of him wanted to kill her there and then. Another part of him wanted to make her suffer. He would drag her through hell and back if it was the last thing he did.

Erik returned to his feet. Looking around him, the extent of the damage was almost unbearable to look at. He had expected this to happen in a way, but one thing he didn't expect was to find this much in ruins.

There was nothing he could really do for the moment, he would return in a few days to see what he could replace and attempt to clear up the mess. He had some other matters to attend to first.

He skulked back to the passageway. Moving the mirror aside and holding the curtain out of the way, he looked back into his lair once more. His fist clenched in anger. He snarled out loud.

_You will curse the day you brought me into this world. I was fine until you walked back into my life all these years after you sold me to the circus. Now you have gone too far. I will make you suffer as much as you made me. It's not an empty threat, **it's a promise**._

He let the curtain drop and made his way back to where he had left Caesar. He mounted the horse and took off, leaving the Opera House and everyone in it silently sleeping.


	37. Masquerade

Chapter 37- Masquerade

The Opera Populaire was buzzing with excitement. The day of the Masquerade ball had finally come. Meg, as usual was making a big drama out of the whole thing, much like she did with productions, only this time it was about her dress and mask.

André and Firmin were to be found in the entrance hall where the ball was to be held. They were making sure that things such as tables for food and drink were in place, decorations set, and above all making sure that the space designated for the Orchestra was up to standard.

"A bit higher… a bit higher… no lower!" Firmin was currently instructing a stage manager where to put a decoration. "That's it!"

Madame Giry then entered the hall, looking quite tired, but perfectly cheerful. "Good morning messieurs." She chimed merrily.

Firmin and André both looked round, surprised. It was a rarity to see Madame Giry out of her office these days.

"Good morning." They both replied at the same time.

"Well?" Said André, looking up expectantly at Madame Giry for any reply.

"Well… what?" Madame Giry looked puzzled; she could not think what André was asking her.

"What do you think of the decorations?" Asked Firmin, so loudly that one of the stage managers nearly dropped an ornament he was currently trying to place on one of the balconies.

"Careful!" Shouted André.

All of a sudden Meg ran into the hall. She looked in such a panic that everyone present stared at her, lost for words.

"Mother!" She shouted, running up to Antoinette, "Mother, I need your opinion." She held up two masks, one in each hand, "Which do you think looks better, the black one…" She held forward the mask in her right hand, "… Or the white one?" She held out the mask in her left hand.

Madame Giry looked at the masks, and tried to act interested. "Well, what colour is your dress?"

Meg clapped and hand to her forehead. "I need your opinion on that as well. Will you come with me quickly?"

Antoinette had to do some very quick thinking to get herself out of this situation. "Erm…" She began, scratching the back of her head. "… I would like to but I… promised the managers that I would help them with the preparations."

"Mother please." Meg was almost on her knees.

"Why don't you ask Christine? I'm sure she will help you." She replied calmly. Antoinette really had other things to be doing besides helping her daughter.

"Christine! Yes!" Meg said in a panicked and excited tone. "Thank you Maman." She gave her mother a brief hug before she ran like a bolt of lightning up the main staircase.

Firmin bent over and whispered to André: "At least we are not the only ones with the jitters over the ball."

André chuckled. "I'm surprised you are not acting as you did before the production of Faust. You were not the one performing, yet you still managed to get yourself overly worked up."

Firmin shot him a look as if to say 'Shut up!' but his cheeks showed the embarrassment.

"I mean…" André continued. "You are actually doing something besides sitting in box 1 watching the performance. You are going to be dancing."

"So are you!" Firmin snapped. "So is everyone else but you seem to forget we are the owners!"

"Dear Richard please calm down. You're already getting yourself wound up too tightly."

"It is not that André. My concern is the Opera Ghost." He said in an almost inaudible whisper.

"He is no longer here. We have not heard from him for months." André replied.

Indeed no one had spoken of the Opera Ghost. No one had heard anything from him, apart from Christine and Madame Giry. All the rest had not spoken of him as he had not been around, or indicated that he was still keeping his eye on them all.

Firmin shrugged off the thought of the Opera Ghost. Nothing had happened at all in any of the recent performances. Why would anything happen tonight? No it was all going to be perfect.

Madame Giry walked over to them. "Can I help with anything Messieurs?" She asked politely.

"Ah, yes." André boomed. "Would you please come along with me to our office? There are just a few things I need to clear up with you about tonight's dance. You can continue with the decorations for the moment can't you Monsieur Firmin?"

Firmin did not have time to answer as André and Madame Giry had already begun to head off in the direction of the managers' office.

-

Meg knocked on Christine's door three times. There was a low mumbling sound from the other side, which she interpreted as 'Come in'. Opening the door, she saw Christine lying in bed, looking absolutely exhausted.

"What is it?" Mumbled Christine, then she opened her eyes to see Meg standing in front of her, the two masks still clutched in her hands.

"Good heavens… what happened to you?" Meg had just about managed to forget her worries over her outfit.

"Just tired from… from…." She yawned, and just about managed to get herself out of bed before saying. "…practicing."

Meg looked confused for a few seconds but then a sudden rush of realisation showed on her face. "Oh! You mean your dance, don't you?"

Christine did not answer but simply nodded and moved over to her dressing table. She opened one of the drawers and pulled out a new rose that Erik had given her the previous day. She placed it in her hair, which seemed to remind Meg why she had come to see Christine.

"Which mask do you…"

"The white one and wear the lighter dress." Interrupted Christine, she knew that Meg was going to ask her something like this and she already had an answer planned.

Meg seemed happy with Christine's decision. "So…" She began, "… how is your dance going, well?"

"I'd say it is pretty good…" Answered Christine, readjusting the rose in her hair. Her voice then dropped to a whisper, "… but then I have got a very good dance partner, haven't I…"

Christine had expected Meg to make some snide comments about her and Erik about now, but Meg surprised her. She clapped her hand to her forehead like she had done when she had remembered the dress.

"I'm going to dance with Byron... what if he thinks I am awful?"

Christine gave a small laugh, which earned her an evil glare from Meg. "Meg, if you were awful then you would not have been in the ballet."

Meg considered this for a moment, but it did not seem to ease her worries at all. She simply said, "See you later Christine." Before she walked out of the door looking absolutely mortified.

Christine could now concentrate on her own thoughts and concerns about the ball, most importantly, getting back at the Witch, Catherine.

There was another knock at the door. Christine expected it to be Meg returning to ask her something else.

"Meg... I told you the lighter…" She started.

"Christine, it's me Zurie." Came a girl's voice from the other side of the door.

_Ooops wrong person. _"Sorry Zurie, come on in." She said feeling the colour rush to her cheeks.

Zurie entered. "Sorry I have not seen you recently. I just thought I would come and see how you were."

"That is very sweet of you. I am very well. Are you all ready for tonight?" She asked.

"Yes." Zurie said. How ever her gaze fell to the floor. "But, my step-mother is going to be there. I have tried to explain to my father about Erik, but he will not listen."

An idea suddenly hit Christine so hard. _That's it! Ivan!_

"He says that I am making it all up and things have been so difficult between us." She finished.

Christine walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Zurie. Your father will eventually find out the truth. It is because…" She shuddered at the thought. "…He loves her that he won't listen. It is not your fault. If he were to believe it then it would bring shame on your family."

"I know it would, but she has been lying to him for all these years. He is just so blind that he has not seen through her, as we have."

"That is only because of Erik. She has only shown us her true nature." Christine told her. _That she is pure evil._

There was a slight pause. They were both thinking the same thing.

"I hear that you're doing the closing dance. That will be good to see." Zurie said taking the subject off of Catherine.

"I hope it goes well. Luckily, I have got a great dance partner." Christine could not help but smirk.

"I bet Erik is very good." She said in a cheeky manner.

Zurie can help me. She is the only way I can get to Ivan. Maybe it would be a good idea to let her in on what has happened.

"Zurie…" Christine began, trying to word this just right. "…I need your help."

-

"Right… what do you think?" The ball was only one hour away, and everybody was now starting to get ready, or in Meg's case, just finishing.

"You look fantastic!" Answered Byron, admiring Meg in her outfit of light blue, complete with a thin white mask that covered just the eyes. "Right, I suppose I had better put mine on…"

Byron was wearing a white suit, with a matching bow tie. His mask however was black, which created a very nice contrasting effect. He was originally going to wear a black suit, but the managers announced that since they were in France, they would be wearing the French colours or red, white and blue.

About half an hour before the start of the ball, Christine came to find Meg. Christine, like Byron, chose to wear white, but unlike Byron decided to have a matching white mask to go with it.

"You look amazing!" Said Meg, a look of awe on her face. "I knew I should have got a white one…"

"Meg you look fine in blue… anyway I can't stay long. I have to go and give these music scores to the managers." She held several pieces of parchment, which Meg assumed had the music for the different instruments.

"For your closing dance?" Christine nodded, and then she noticed the look of panic return to Meg's face. Christine tried to give her an encouraging look, but felt that she probably failed and made it look more like pity.

Turning and leaving, Christine headed in the direction of the managers' office. She passed Catherine on her way to the office, but fortunately did not speak with her. She looked extremely ugly in Christine's opinion, wearing a scarlet dress.

It was only when she was half way office that Christine realised that they would not be there. They would obviously be in the entrance hall, making last minute changes and preparing to welcome the guests.

The Orchestra were all in place when Christine got there. The managers were having a talk with Reyer, and Christine had a suspicion she knew about what.

"Miss Daae!" Firmin looked as though he was about to faint, just like he did at Faust. "Not to nag at you or anything…" He paused, and then nearly shouted, "… But we really need the music for your dance!"

Christine held out the music she was carrying, which seemed to put Firmin and André at ease a great deal. Reyer was also in a panic, Christine could tell that the pressure of having to provide the music for everyone, including several nobles, was clearly unnerving him.

"And… Miss Daae…" Began André, looking as though he had been sentenced to death. "…Who is your partner for the dance?"

This was a question that Christine was hoping to avoid, especially if it was one of the managers asking. Trying to do some very quick thinking, she was rescued by the first few people arriving.

Firmin checked his watch. "Good lord! Where has the time gone?"

He and André went to welcome the guests, giving Christine the chance to sneak back up to her room. Once she was finally there, she found standing in front of her, a very different Erik to the one she was used to.

He was dressed in a blood red costume, complete with a cape to match. His mask was very different to the half one that he usually wore, this one covered both of his eyes and looked like what appeared to be a skull, only a bit less frightening.

Christine was lost for words. "You look…" She could not think of what to say, 'Amazing, spectacular', none of them seemed to fit. She just stood there, but Erik seemed to understand.

"You look quite good yourself…" He said, giving her a small smile and walking over to her, "… shall we?"

Christine took hold of his arm, and the two of them left, heading for the entrance hall. Erik seemed to be a little nervous.

_Of course! He has never done anything like this before, has he?_ She thought to herself, this was true of course; he usually prowled the Opera House using his secret passages.

Arriving at the hall, they both saw that it had filled up with many people in the short time that Christine had been gone. The Orchestra were currently playing a waltz, making the floor fill with dancers.

Fortunately for both of them, there was no sign of Catherine. Christine and Erik made their way down the grand marble staircase, shaking hands with people they passed. Most of the people who were not dancing were holding drinks and enjoying the food.

It was very fortunate that it was a Masquerade ball. It meant that Erik could avoid awkward questions about who he was. After all, nobody would ever dream of 'The Phantom of The Opera' even daring to come to the ball.

They decided to join in with the waltz. Christine saw Meg and Byron dancing together. Meg looked extremely relieved about something, and Christine was pretty sure that Byron had told her that she was a very good dancer.

Meg caught sight of them. As they came close to each other, she gave Christine a cheeky smile and said, "Lover boy's looking good…"

Unfortunately for Meg, Erik heard this. He did not do much however, just scowled at her, underneath his mask, menacingly. Meg of course saw nothing.

Christine could not help but giggle. As they continued with the waltz, more and more people decided to join in.

"It's a good thing they decided on the colour scheme of red, white and blue." Christine whispered.

"Yes, I suppose it is." He said not looking at her.

Christine knew exactly who he was looking at. "Don't worry. She doesn't know it's you."

"I'm not worried about that. I'm more concerned about the fact that she is coming over." He whispered.

"It's fine. The plan can go ahead now." She whispered back.

She looked around and managed to lock eyes with a figure dressed in deep blue with a light blue mask to match. She gave a nod, which was returned.

"Ah!" Came an all too familiar voice. "My dear Miss Daae. And who might this be?"

Christine and Erik stopped and turned to face her. "My name, my dear mademoiselle, is Charles Darrell. But please call me Charles." He replied in a very French accent to disguise his own voice. "You look exceedingly beautiful Miss…?"

"Oh!" She giggled. "Catherine Beaumont."

Erik took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. "Beaumont? That would make you the Patron of the Opera Populaire, no?"

"Yes monsieur you are correct." She smiled at him completely ignoring Christine. "Well I hope I get to dance with you sometime."

"It would be my pleasure." _I just hope my stomach can keep calm. _"See you later then." He replied.

She headed off to join a crowd of women who had just entered.

Christine just stared at Erik who muttered: "Femme stupide et pathétique!" Under his breath.

Christine smothered a giggle. "What did you say Monsieur Darrell?" She said, smiling.

"I called her a stupid pathetic woman." Erik growled. He looked up and looked around to where the mangers were standing talking to each other. He smirked at them.

"What are you smiling at?" Christine asked curiously.

"It would seem my managers have had a little too much to drink." He looked back toward Christine. "I think it is time I delivered this." He said pulling a leather-bound folder out from underneath his cloak. "I will be back shortly." With that he streaked over to where the mangers were.

"Yes, this is turning out rather well." Boomed André.

"Quite a night!" Agreed a rather tipsy Firmin.

"I am very impressed." Erik said as he stopped in front of them both.

"Well… one does one's best." Firmin chuckled.

"I was wondering, Gentlemen if I might speak to you both alone?" Erik put on his normal voice.

Both Firmin and André turned very pale. "It's… It's…" André stuttered.

"Me?" Erik finished for him. "Did you think that I had left you for good? Have you missed me, good messieurs? I have written you an opera! Here I bring the finished score." He handed the folder over to Firmin.

"Don Juan?" Firmin read out loud.

"Triumphant." Erik finished for him. "I advise you to comply. Do I make myself clear?"

André and Firmin said nothing, just looked at him in complete terror.

"I will take your silence as a yes." Erik turned to leave but stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, and enjoy the party." He added.

He headed back over toward the dancers when a hand was placed on his shoulder. "May I have this dance?" It was Catherine Beaumont.

Erik turned to face her fully. "Why yes Madame Beaumont." _You will be lucky if I don't kill you right here and now!_

"Oh please, call me Catherine." She said childishly. "It is only fair as you have told me to call you Charles."

"Very well, Catherine. It would be my pleasure." _To kill you! _He held out his arm, which she took and they both strode up to join the dance.

Erik had to muster up all of his acting talent to act as if he was enjoying the dance. This was extremely difficult since it was the woman who had ruined his life that he was dancing with.

"I did not think that a patron could dance…" He said, as cheekily as he could without it sounding false.

"Oh… you flatter me Monsieur Darrell." She said, as they continued to dance round the hall. "So tell me… how do you and Miss Daae know each other?"

Erik fortunately had an answer planned for this. "She is a distant relative… My cousin, I don't know how many times removed, on my mother's side." Erik's stomach gave a particularly nasty lurch when he said the word mother.

The dance finally came to an end, and Erik breathed a sigh of relief. "You are not a bad dancer yourself Monsieur Darrell."

"That's not the only thing I'm good at." Erik's stomach was about to burst as he said these words, but he knew that it was necessary. He gave a meaningful look to the figure in blue then said, "Come with me…"

Catherine did not hesitate to do this. Erik took her hand, and then led her through a door to the right of the hall. The room was completely empty. Erik locked the door behind them as they went in.

Catherine walked into the middle of the room, then turned round expectantly, but found herself looking along the blade of a sword. She looked at Erik, fear and trepidation written in her face.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was shaking so madly that Erik could barely understand her.

He let out a high, mirthless laugh. "Isn't it quite obvious what I am doing? Or has the drink impaired your vision?"

Catherine stood rooted to the spot. Half of her wanted to scream, the other half to run, yet she could do neither. Terror kept her where she was.

"Well, I hope you can see well enough to see this!" He pulled his mask off his face, leaving Catherine to look at the face that had haunted her for so long, and the face that she thought she was rid of forever.

"You're supposed to be dead!" She whispered, both fear and anger in her voice.

"Can you really kill a ghost mother?" He asked in a loud, sarcastic voice, letting out a howl of laughter.

"Shame… that stupid woman could not even kill you properly…"

Erik held the sword hard against Catherine's throat. "Don't you dare insult Christine. You are a coward. You had to get her to try and kill me because you were too afraid to try yourself."

"A coward am I?" She asked in a whisper, "Well, if anyone else had a son with a face that hideous then I think that they would be petrified as well."

Erik used all of his self-control not to kill her right then.

"So that is why you sold me to the circus?" Erik asked through gritted teeth.

"If I had not of done that, I would have drowned you, you rat!" She hissed at him. "The circus was the best place for you. You have always been and always will be a freak!"

"Tell me." Erik paused and swallowed. "Would you have kept me had my father stayed with you?"

"Your father left me because of you!" She let out a sigh. "He was the only man I have ever loved."

"I didn't really think you cared for your husband or your step daughter." He said almost pitifully.

"They are both fools. Oh yes being married into wealth could get me the things I wanted, but it could never give me my old life back." She said nastily.

"My life was fine until you walked back into it. I gave you the chance to walk away but no, you did not heed my warning. Instead you stayed in my Opera House and poisoned Christine to try to kill me. Then you burned the remains of my home." He yelled, his voice rising with each sentence.

"It was to get rid of the memories that haunted me ever since you were born. Pierrick leaving me made me change into the woman I am now. I blame you for ruining my life." Her voice also rising.

"I may be deformed, but that doesn't make me evil! You sold your only child who was then subjected to terror for 2 years! Then you walk back into my life making my scars re-appear again." He had kept the sword perfectly still against her throat.

"So what?" She said softly. "You are nothing but the spawn of Satan. You deserved it."

"Did I? But did Ivan and Zurie deserve to have you enter their lives when all you cared about was wealth?" He retorted.

"What they don't know can't hurt them!" She snapped.

Erik lowered the sword slightly. "Is that a fact?" He lifted the sword again to indicate someone behind her and nodded.

Catherine turned round to come face to face with Ivan. Ivan said nothing just looked at her in disbelief.

"Ivan…I" She began.

"I don't want to hear anymore." He shouted at her before storming out passing Erik and shutting the door.

"Think of this as mercy, a small gift from me." Erik said to her wickedly. "I could have killed you several times. But now you will suffer as much as you made me!"

Catherine said nothing, just bolted out of the door after Ivan. Erik replaced his mask and then turned and went after them to find Christine.

"How did it go?" She asked as he approached her.

"Even better than we could have hoped." He replied, a note of triumph in his voice.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, can we have your attention please!" Boomed Firmin, standing in the middle of the grand marble staircase.

"The night, we are afraid, has almost come to an end, but before you all go, we would like you to please put your hands together for Christine Daae and her partner, as they delight us with one final dance."

The guests clapped loudly and cleared the dance floor. Christine and Erik walked out into the centre hand in hand. They waited a few seconds, and then the Orchestra struck up the tango.

Christine kept her face as serious as she possibly could. The tango was a dance where it was as if the male and female were challenging each other. The success of their plan gave them such a morale boost that they both danced their very best, back and forth across the floor.

About half way through the dance, Erik took the rose out of Christine's hair and placed it in his mouth; this earned them a cheer from the audience, and caused them to clap along with the rhythm for the rest of the song.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the song came to an end, and Christine and Erik were left in their finishing pose; Erik behind Christine, holding her with her head tilted towards his. There was a loud burst of applause, and they both took a bow.

As soon as the clapping and cheering died down, Firmin spoke. "Thank you very much for a splendid performance…" He began, walking onto the dance floor slightly, "…however, I think that I should take this opportunity to say something; that we no longer take orders from Ghosts!"

There was a gasp from many of the guests, followed by a lot of loud muttering.

"I strongly advise you to take that back, good monsieur…" Erik whispered, softly.

"Or what? You are going to kill me?" It was clear that Firmin had had a little too much to drink.

Erik smiled. "Of course not monsieur…" Then his voice went very quiet so that only Christine could hear, "…look as though you are trying to get away." He barely moved his lips as he said this, Christine did as she was told.

There was a great burst of red flame, followed by a lot of purple smoke. Firmin was coughing violently where he stood, and when he looked at where there had once been two people, he now saw nobody.

"But now I have your leading soprano…"


	38. Surprises

Chapter 38 – Surprises

Erik and Christine heard a lot of mutters, gasps and a few screams when the cloud of smoke came out of nowhere. They had dropped through the trap door that lead to the 'Mirror room' as Erik liked to call it. He led her though an exit and she found herself in a familiar passage.

"That was quite a display. Don't you think?" Erik asked.

"Certainly." Christine was trying to suppress a giggle. "At least we humiliated your mother. Now I just hope Ivan sees the sense to kick her out."

Erik beamed. "I couldn't have done it without your help Christine."

"Don't forget Zurie. She helped out too." She added.

"And Zurie." Erik corrected himself.

"Did you see the look on the Managers' faces? But…" She frowned. "They will now know about us."

Erik looked at her smiling. _She always worries. _"Don't worry about it. I have a plan that will cover our relationship up."

Christine looked very puzzled. "How?" _Everyone will know about us. The managers do! I might even be…_

Erik noticed the look on her face and so he stopped and thought he had better explain. "You know I told you to look as if you were trying to get away?" Christine nodded. "Well if they question you, all you have to do is play dumb, so to speak. I will inform them in a letter that if they don't perform my masterpiece they will never see you again." _In which case, you can stay down here with me longer. _"If they question you all you have to say is 'I don't remember anything.' and don't worry. They won't remember anything all that well as I think they had drunk a little too much wine."

Christine nodded indicating she understood. Erik had it all planned. She trusted him and knew it would all fall into place. "I think this calls for some sort of celebration don't you?"

_I think now is the time to ask her._ "Yes. Indeed it is. But I have a surprise for you." He looked down at her as he grinned.

"Oh I love surprises." She smiled widely.

"Well I hope you like this one." _Please oh please!_

Upon their return to Erik's home Porsche greeted them with a 'Meow'. Christine picked up the cat and stroked her gently. Porsche purred lightly enjoying the attention.

"You know what Erik, considering what she did to this place you have really done a lot to make it look better." Christine said, looking around.

In the weeks before the ball Erik had returned to clear up and try to repair as much as he could so that he and Christine could practice their Tango. The grand piano had been damaged but as they already knew the music, they had known what moves they were doing and were able to get the timing right.

Erik walked over and began to scratch the cat behind the ears. "I think she has missed us." Erik lightly kissed Porsche's fur. "Hm, who has been a good girl?"

Christine laughed. _He really loves Porsche... Despite calling her lazy._

Porsche had purred more loudly with both of them fussing over her.

"Wait there." He told Christine. "Just so you know. This is only part of the surprise. The other part you will find out tomorrow." With that he dashed off into one of the rooms.

"Alright." Christine said. Not having a clue as to what her surprise could be.

"Close your eyes Christine." He called over to her.

Christine gently put the cat down. Standing back up, she closed her eyes. She felt Erik

standing in front of her.

"Open them." He whispered.

She opened them and Erik was holding a navy, velvet box in front of her. She gasped. _Could it be..?_ She wondered taking it in her hand. She slowly and very gingerly opened the box. Inside was a silver ring with a Diamond on top, sparkling as if it had been polished to the nth degree. Her eyes met his; she felt her jaw open in complete amazement. "Erik…" She was at a loss for words.

Erik now knelt down on one knee, taking one of her small hands in his. "Christine... Will you marry me?"

She beamed from ear to ear; tears had formed in her eyes. "YES!" She yelled. Throwing her arms around his neck hugging him so tightly.

Erik laughed out loud happily, and stood up lifting Christine's featherweight body off the ground, spinning her round and round. Both of them were laughing with happiness.

"Do you mean it?" He asked, apparently thinking that this was a very good dream and he would wake up from it at any moment.

She answered his question with a deep passionate kiss. Erik felt like he was walking on air. _This is the best day of my life!_ His life seemed to be getting better and better. He had humiliated his mother, causing her to take off and hopefully never return and Christine had just agreed to marry him!

Eventually they broke apart to take a breath in. "Did that answer your question?"

Erik beamed and took the ring from the box. Slowly he placed the ring on the third finger of her left hand and then planted a kiss on the back of it.

She wrapped her arms around his waist leaning into his chest for a moment. Erik slid one hand around her waist to her back pulling her tighter against him. His other hand entwined itself with her hair. He felt tears stinging the back of his eyes.

Eventually he let her step back so she could look at him. Neither of them needed words to explain how they felt. It was evident in their faces.

They held each other, looking deeply into one another's eyes which were glassy with tears. Christine put on a smile, reached out for his hand and gestured for him to bend down lower.

She whispered in his ear: "Follow me."

Erik did as he was told. She was heading for his bedroom. Erik felt a grin creep onto his face as she opened the door.

Porsche looked on as they walked through with beaming faces. The door was then carefully closed and locked. Porsche went off into the library to curl up and settle to sleep for the night.

-

It was the morning after the Masquerade Ball and Firmin and André staggered into their office, a little hung over.

"W- what's…" Firmin trailed off as he stifled a yawn. "…The time?"

André pulled out his pocket watch. It looked like he had difficulty in reading it. "Twenty past four." He replied. Yawning also.

"Twenty past four?" Firmin asked. "It can't be that time. It's morning isn't it?"

"Obviously not." André replied.

Firmin gave a 'tut' sound and marched over to where André was standing with his pocket watch in his left hand.

"Give me that!" Firmin ordered, swiping it clean out of André grip.

He looked at the watch, giving a long exasperated sigh. "No wonder it reads twenty past four. You're reading the watch upside down!"

André didn't really react much to this. He had obviously not sobered up as much as Firmin.

"We need that stuff that Ivan gave us last time." André croaked.

Firmin nodded his agreement; he then went to sit at his desk only to see a familiar looking note. This brought his thoughts back to last night. He remembered that the Phantom had kidnapped Christine. They took it upon themselves last night along with other staff members to search for the missing soprano, but to no avail. They gave up, hoping that she would return.

André flopped into a chair, still in a half–dreamy state. Firmin opened the note and read the same scrawny handwriting that he had read many times since he became the owner of the Populaire.

_My Dear Messieurs._

_Do not fear for Miss Daae. No harm shall come to her. However, if you do not perform my Opera which I so kindly gave you, then you will never see her again. When I know for sure that you will keep your end of the bargain then I shall return her to you._

_I hope that we have an understanding Gentlemen._

_O.G_

Firmin took the note over to André and handed it to him. As André unfolded it and began to read, Firmin took the leather bound folder he had been given the previous night off a shelf and placed it on his desk.

_This is one he wrote? But this has never been done before._

He opened it and began to read. It looked very complicated. "I think we are going to need Madame Giry and Monsieur Reyer to look this over with us."

"Are we going to perform it?" André asked.

"Well I don't suppose we have any choice where Miss Daae is concerned." He replied. "We need to look this over, to see what can be done and besides we need another Opera."

"Very well, I shall find them and bring them in." André stated. He seemed to have woken up a bit more since reading the letter.

With that he left the room, leaving Firmin to read through the score.

-

Erik awoke around 11 that morning to find a sleeping Christine in his arms. He smiled as he thought about the previous night. _Past the point of no return._ He thought to himself.

He had given into his urge to have her. She had let him and he had no regrets. It was simply an act of love.

He pulled her sleeping form closer to him, holding her tight. He loved the feel of her skin against his. Hoping this moment would never end. Everything just kept getting better and better.

He had written a note during the night to the managers and guessed they would need Reyer and Antoinette's help in making sense of it. Antoinette would then be able to tell him what their decision was. He would then have to, with great reluctance, take Christine back to the surface.

He kissed her softly and her eyes fluttered open and met his gaze. "Good morning." She whispered sleepily.

She remembered what had happened the night before and a bright pink blush rushed to her cheeks as she realized that she was the complete opposite of being fully clothed.

Erik began to chuckle. "Good morning." _My fiancée. _"Darling." He leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, but she already knew the answer.

"Fantastic, wonderful. There are not enough words to describe how I feel, Christine." He whispered in a husky voice. "What about you? Did you sleep well?"

"I think that's the best night's sleep I have ever had." She replied. She was still in a dreamy state, but her thoughts were completely on what had happened between them last night. "You said that I would find out the other part of the surprise today."

Erik grinned. "You will. How about after lunch? Does that sound alright?"

"Yes. It gives me more time to snuggle up." She said in a cheeky manner.

With that Erik enveloped her in his powerful arms and kissed her hard with passion. She responded by doing the same. _She is the most important person in my life, she is here with me now. I have no backward glances._

-

In the managers' office, all four people were sitting around the desk, looking thoughtfully at the 'Don Juan Triumphant' score.

"Ludicrous! Have you read the score?" Reyer said despairingly.

"It is simply impossible!" André added in agreement.

"This is lunacy! Well, you know my views about this whole affair." Firmin cut in. "Utter lunacy!"

"But if we dare refuse, we all know what will happen." Madame Giry warned.

"But Madame, it is far too complex, even for an Opera." Reyer answered.

"We managed to put 'Faust' together. This is no more difficult than that..." She turned to the managers, "…but there is more at stake if we refuse, and that is the life of an 18 year old soprano!" She stressed.

"We know. …We know!" André cut in. "But do you think he would really harm her? I mean you all saw that he was her dance partner."

"Monsieur, I don't believe she knew who it was. You saw her trying to get away didn't you?" Said Madame Giry. _Although I must admit I didn't really think he could dance. He is always full of surprises._

"Fine!" Firmin nearly roared. "We will perform it. No questions, André and myself will begin casting and put the list up tomorrow. You will have to inform the ballet dancers and the Orchestra of the next piece. We will get them the music and give that to you later Monsieur Reyer." Reyer nodded. "Alright then, we will speak about this later."

Madame Giry and Reyer hastily left the room. Both managers could tell Reyer was not at all happy about this, but as it was his job, he had to go and inform his Orchestra.

-

"Are you ready yet Christine?" Erik asked.

"Yes." She called out of the door.

_How long does it take a women to get dressed? _Erik felt something furry rub against his trouser leg. "Porsche?" The cat had a letter in her mouth. Erik took it and opened the letter.

_Erik._

_The managers have decided to go ahead and perform your opera. Bring Christine back later on tonight when everyone else is asleep._

_Antoinette._

"Did Antoinette see you at all?" He asked the cat. Who mewed. _I'll take that as a no._ He nodded at her.

Erik had told Antoinette to leave any letters in Christine's room and Porsche would come to collect them and bring them down.

"Ready." Christine announced. As she came out of the bedroom. She was wearing a black silk dress. Erik could not take his eyes off her.

"You look stunning." He remarked as he took her hand and they headed off for the passageways. "Here, take this." He handed her a cloak, not wanting her to get cold. "Wait there a moment." He said as they approached the end of one of the passages. He disappeared for a few moments. He popped his head round the corner. "It's all clear come on." She took his hand and he led her to the outside.

"We're in the stables." She said, recognizing where she was. They walked over to where Caesar was standing. "Hello Caesar." Christine whispered patting his nose softly. She walked round and Erik helped her up onto the horses back. He then untied him, mounted and they trotted off out of the stables.

It was sunny outside and surprisingly warm. Fortunately people didn't seem to take any notice of the man wearing a white mask on a black stallion coming out of the stables of the Opera Populaire.

Christine was a little confused. "I didn't think you went out during the daytime."

"I don't." He replied.

"But… there are…" She began.

"People around, that is why I'm taking another route, don't worry, I know the way." He cut in.

They passed through an alleyway beside the Opera house and ended up in some fields. There was no one about and so Christine relaxed and held onto Erik as Caesar galloped and jumped over the fences. She closed her eyes, listening to the birds and the wind rushing past her ears.

-

Back at the Opera Populaire a carriage pulled up outside and a lady dressed in white and holding a suitcase stepped out. She made her way up the stone steps toward the entrance.

"Ah Bonjour Madame Beaumont." The doorman greeted her.

"Bonjour." She said casually over her shoulder, walking into the Populaire.

Carrying her suitcase, she walked up the grand staircase and turned left walking in the direction of the managers' office.

She reached the door and knocked. "Come in." Chirped two male voices.

She pushed the door open, getting the reaction on both managers' faces which read: 'Oh no! it's her!'

"Bonjour messieurs. I was wondering if I could have a chat with you both. You see my husband Ivan and I have had a bit of a falling out and I have moved out temporarily. I was wondering if you had a spare room that I could stay in."

Firmin and André both wanted to tell her 'No you cannot stay.' But as she was a patron and that was where part of their income came from, they had no choice but to give her a room.

"Yes, yes of course. We will have one of the maids prepare it for you." They gave her the directions, and without saying anything else not even a 'thank you', she headed out of the door.

Both mangers sighed simultaneously. Both glad to not have to be in the presence of Catherine Beaumont for too long.

-

Erik and Christine stopped outside a rather large thatch cottage. It was indeed in the middle of nowhere. Christine looked at it. Its features were interesting. It looked as if it had been newly painted.

Erik slid off the horse's back and helped Christine down.

"This cottage is so beautiful." She said dreamily. "It's so peaceful here too. Who ever lives here certainly is lucky."

Erik felt another grin creep across his face. He looked down at Christine, who was still studying the grounds and the thatched cottage. "Do you like magic Christine?"

She met his eyes and gave a frown in puzzlement.

"Hold out your hand Christine." Christine held out her hand flat. "You see nothing in your hand, right?"

Christine nodded. There was nothing there.

He took his left hand and moved it swiftly over hers and a brass colored key had appeared.

She gasped. "How did you do that?"

Erik gave a proud smile. "A magician never reveals his secrets."

She looked down at the key in her hand. It was no illusion. It was real and she could feel it in her hand.

"Welcome to our new home Christine…"


	39. The Calm Before The Storm

Chapter 39- The Calm Before The Storm

It was one of those late night rehearsals for 'Don Juan', and as everybody had expected, they were an absolute disaster. The score was by far the most difficult Reyer and his Orchestra had ever seen. The dance routines were so complex that Madame Giry failed to do several demonstrations of what was required to her dancers.

The singers were also having a lot of trouble. The music was in a very different style to what they were used to, meaning that it tested their vocal range to the extreme. Even Christine, who had heard Erik composing the music, found it very challenging to sing.

Christine had been returned to the Opera House the night after she was 'taken' by Erik. As expected, there were a lot of awkward questions upon her return.

-

"_Miss Daae!" Firmin and André came running down the marble staircase in the entrance hall to meet Christine._

"_Miss Daae, where did he take you?" Asked Firmin in a panic._

_Christine kept her face completely blank then looked up at the two managers. _

"_I…" She whispered, mysteriously, then she looked as thought she was trying to remember something very important, "…I don't know, who took me?"_

_The managers looked at each other, worried. André spoke next. "The Phantom of the Opera, he took you right after you had finished your dance with him."_

"_The Phantom…" Christine massaged the back of her head, looking puzzled, "…after doing a dance."_

_She seemed to be talking more to herself that to Firmin and André._

"_Surely…surely you must remember the dance?" Firmin sounded rather desperate. He had been counting on Christine to learn the location of the Phantom._

_Christine's eyes suddenly filled with understanding. "Yes! I danced with the man in red, I remember…there was smoke, and fire…" Her eyes suddenly went completely blank again._

_André looked at her, hoping she was going to say something else. "Do you remember anything after the smoke and fire?" He asked, keeping his voice as calm as he could. Christine shook her head._

"_Come with us to our office, Miss Daae. We can discuss things further there…"_

_Christine did as she was told, and they made their way to the manager's office._

_-_

"Right…" Began a very harassed looking Reyer, "…one more time please, gentlemen. I know it is very difficult but could you please try and avoid any stupid mistakes?"

The Orchestra groaned. Reyer counted them in, and they struck up a fast paced angry tune. The dancers were on stage, trying their best to keep up with the music with their actions, overseen of course by Madame Giry, who was being a tiny bit sympathetic due to the difficulty of the dance.

"Remind me again why we are doing this André…" Asked Firmin, sounding resigned.

The two managers were overseeing the rehearsals from their usual seats in box 1, both of them had their head in their hands, and looked extremely miserable.

"Well…" Began André, trying to find a decent answer, "…because Christine Daae is the best soprano this Opera House has ever seen, and without her, we are nothing."

Firmin groaned his agreement. If the truth be told he thought that the Opera itself was very good. The only problem was that it was so difficult to perform. The Orchestra was slowly improving with the music but there were still lots of very noticeable mistakes. Compared to their first attempt, however, it was much better.

The singers had made an acceptable first attempt, but needed more confidence in what they were doing. The ballet dancers had made an awful first attempt. They looked so out of place and unsure of what they were doing that Firmin could not bear to watch.

All of a sudden, a note fluttered down and landed beside André. "Oh god…" He picked up the letter and read through it. "WHAT!"

"What are you talking about?" Asked Firmin, snatching the letter out of André's hands, after reading through it his eyes widened. "THAT'S WHAT!"

Everyone in the theatre had stopped rehearsing. They stared at the two managers, not daring to say anything. Christine had not dared to speak for a while now anyway. She had been feeling so ill lately that she thought it would be best to keep her mouth shut.

The managers seemed to have noticed the attention that they had brought onto themselves. Firmin got up to speak.

"Erm…" He could not think of how to tell the cast what he had just read, "…we have just been told that… that…"

Christine was not really listening, she was thinking about the events that had happened a few weeks previously…

-

"_Our new home?" She gasped, staring at the key she was holding._

"_That's right…It's ours." Erik said, putting his arm round her._

"_But… how did you afford this? It must have cost a fortune." Christine managed to tear her eyes away from the key and gaze up at the cottage._

"_Twenty thousand francs a month, and I have been there for quite a while…" Christine looked up at him, then they embraced each other in a passionate kiss. "So… do you want to look inside?"_

_Christine did not need to answer, so Erik led her to the front door, and left her to unlock it. She opened the door, and felt her jaw drop. The inside was magnificent; the furnishings looked brand new, which, Christine reminded herself, they probably were._

_Erik gave her a tour of the whole cottage. It consisted of a Music room, which had a new grand piano in it, and a new one of every other instrument Erik had lost in his old home; A kitchen, with much better furnishings than the one in his old home did; A dining room, which had a large oak table complete with padded chairs round it; A spare room, for any guests that might stay, such as Daroga; And finally three main bedrooms, which were even better than the master bedroom in his old home._

"_Why three bedrooms?" Asked Christine, curiously._

"_Well… you never know…"_

_-_

There was uproar in the theatre, which seemed to jog Christine back to her senses.

"You cannot be serious!" Shouted Reyer, pointing his conducting stick at them threateningly.

"I agree. That is simply insane!" Yelled Byron at the two managers.

Christine had been engrossed in her thoughts so much that she had not got a clue what everybody was so angry about. Meg looked as if she was about to go and slap both of the managers, as if they were telling a very bad joke.

"Why aren't you angry? This is your boyfriend's fault!" Hissed Meg at Christine, luckily everybody was arguing so much that they did not seem to hear her.

"Huh… what?" Meg looked like she was about to breathe fire at Christine's ignorance.

"Unless you all want another episode like Bouquet's I suggest you learn to live with it." Screamed André.

"But one week, my good messieurs… ONE WEEK!" All of Reyer's jitteriness seemed to have disappeared underneath his anger. "That is nowhere near enough time to get my Orchestra ready! Not to mention everyone else…"

The only person who could say that they were ready, was Christine, and this was only because she had been practicing the songs with Erik, who happened to be the composer. Nevertheless, Christine still thought that Erik was losing his mind if he thought that his Opera was going to be ready to perform in one week.

"If I may say my personal opinion…" Came a voice which did not lighten the mood, as it belonged to Catherine Beaumont, "… maybe you should just ignore him. I mean he has bossed you around for long enough in my opinion."

Firmin took a deep breath, and then turned to look at her. "Well… that sounds just brilliant doesn't it? That will look spectacular on your gravestone; 'Died due to expressing her personal opinion.'"

Catherine's eyes flashed, but she quickly recovered herself. "If that's what you think, then I will feel no shame in not wishing you bunch of pushovers any luck, because believe me you are going to need it…"

"On the contrary, I would not have asked for the performance to be so soon if I did not think these fine actors, musicians and dancers were not capable of such a task…" Came a disembodied voice, which echoed all around the theatre.

"Why can't you just crawl back to that hole you live in and die?" Muttered Catherine to herself. " 'Fine actors, musicians and dancers' are they?" She asked, raising her voice.

There was a long silence/ Christine glared at her. She could not just leave things alone. Zurie looked ready to kill and Reyer had his head in his hands, trying to calm himself down.

"If this is what your definition of 'Fine' is…" Catherine's voice was filled with sarcasm, "… then you might as well pick up some beggars off the street for your opera, which is about all it's worth after all…"

"Madame…" Whined Firmin, pleadingly, "…Madame please…"

"I mean, the Orchestra is so horrific, that I'm beginning to get confused. Is it them, or is your music just so terrible that…"

"I THINK I SPEAK FOR EVERYONE HERE WHEN I SAY SHUT UP!" Bellowed Reyer at the top of his voice, clearly offended by the reference to his Orchestra.

"Thank you, Monsieur Reyer…" Said the voice, quietly, though still loudly enough so that everybody could hear. "…I would advise you to take his request seriously, Madame Beaumont, we don't want a Patron dying before the night of the performance. Do we?"

Christine could not help but notice the words 'before the night of the performance', what was that supposed to mean?

"Anyway, I think you have all rehearsed to saturation point today. Go and get some well earned rest, ready to begin again tomorrow. I have every confidence in you that the production will be ready and perfected." The voice never spoke again after this.

There was an immediate sound of panicked whispers exchanged between the cast. For several minutes they all stood there, hardly believing what had just happened.

"Well, you heard the man, off to bed, chop chop…" All of them slowly filed out of the theatre, still muttering to each other.

Christine on the other hand, waited for everybody else to leave before going herself. By the time she was back in the entrance hall, everybody had made their way back to their rooms.

She went and sat on the bottommost step of the marble staircase. "I hope you know what you are doing Erik…" She whispered to herself.

"I do…" Came a voice from beside her. Christine gave a small jump and then looked to her right to see Erik sitting right next to her.

"Erik! What are you doing here? What if someone…"

"I've got Porsche on the lookout for me." He cut in. Christine couldn't help but notice that he looked a little worried about something.

"Why have you only given us a week for rehearsals?" She asked, a lot more angrily than she had meant to. Erik looked at her, shocked. "I'm sorry…" She said, quickly, "…I've been doing that a lot lately, lashing out at people."

Erik looked concerned. "You want to talk about it?" He asked, reaching out and putting his hand on her lap.

"It's nothing really…" She replied, sighing, "… I don't know. It's just that everything is happening so fast, and this does not really help. So, why have you only given us a week?"

"If I thought it was not long enough then I would not have done it…" He began, looking at his knees, "… but I can't lie to you Christine, it is because…" He gulped, looking on the verge of tears, "… Christine… I have to kill her."

"You can't…" Said Christine, as soon as she heard this, "…Erik you promised me…"

"Christine please listen to me…" He said, not very loud yet loud enough to silence her, "…If I don't kill her then we will never be safe. Y**ou** will never be safe." He pulled her in close to him. "I can't lose you…"

"Surely… surely there must be some other way, you don't have to kill…"

"Yes I do, until she is dead I will not be able to rest." He cut her off again. "I'm sorry Christine.b I know I promised you, but neither of us could foresee this, could we?"

Christine let out a sigh. "So that is what you meant by 'Before the production'…"

"Yes." He whispered.

-

"Make a fool out of me, why don't you!" Catherine muttered to herself, pacing around her room, running her fingers through her hair, frustrated. "I'll show you… I'LL SHOW YOU!"

She went over to her desk and opened her drawer. She checked something that was inside it. Smiling to herself and closing the drawer she walked over to her bed to lie down.

_You take everything away from me…first the man I love, which felt like taking away my life, then you take away all my wealth! I will not be at peace until your deformed head is on a spit!_

She then settled into a very uneasy sleep, the thoughts of Erik making it into her dreams, which consisted of productions and blood…

-

The one week that the crew had to prepare for the production had gone in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Incredibly, they seemed to have pulled it off, even if it did mean that they had rehearsals practically all day and well into the night.

The Orchestra had finally mastered this strange new style of music, which satisfied Reyer a great deal. Madame Giry was delighted with her dancers, and actually admitted that she could never have danced better herself during her career.

Christine however, seemed very odd in the past week. During one rehearsal she had had to storm out of the theatre to be violently sick. On top of this, her mood seemed to change with each sentence she spoke. Once Meg had asked her to test her on her lines, and Christine had shouted at her as though this was an insult and then when Meg asked again, she did it without question.

That afternoon, Christine had got so annoyed with herself for snapping at everyone when she was spoken to that she went to Madame Giry for some advice. Antoinette had been something of a mother figure to Christine, and was the only other person that she could confide in besides Erik. She did not want to trouble him with this however.

"How long have you felt like this?" Asked Madame Giry, very cautiously. She had more than once been on the receiving end of one of Christine's mood swings.

"Oh… I don't know. I suppose it has nearly been two months now…" Christine answered, sounding miserable.

"Well, can you think of anything that might have happened to make you this… angry?"

"Of course not! Otherwise if I could then I would not be coming to you for help would I?" She shouted back at her. Madame Giry took no notice of her sudden change in attitude however.

For at least an hour the two women sat there in Madame Giry's office, talking. All the time Christine seemed to be undecided about how she wanted to feel. One second she looked on the verge of tears, and the next she looked ready to kill.

All of a sudden something seemed to click in Antoinette's mind, and to Christine's utter astonishment, she gave a small smile. "What?" Asked Christine, neither happy nor sad.

"But of course! It has been staring everyone in the face for ages!" For the first time ever, Christine thought that Madame Giry looked excited.

"What has been staring everyone in the face for ages?" She asked in the same monotonic sort of voice.

"Oh, don't you see…?" Antoinette asked, as if Christine were somewhat stupid.

"Well no, that's why I am asking…" Christine replied, sounding puzzled.

"Oh do use some sense! Put everything together… The mood swings and the sickness, all signs of you being, what?"

Christine thought for a moment. _What does this mean?_ And then a sudden look of both realisation and horror came across her face.

"Oh no…" She said, her voice sounding somewhat alarmed, yet at the same time excited.

"I am afraid it is oh yes my dear…"

-

Night-time came, and the inhabitants of the Opera house were all drifting off into a very uneasy sleep. They had but one more rehearsal of what had to be the most difficult Opera ever written, until they had to perform it to yet another full house.

Christine lay in bed, wide awake, after what she had been told by Madame Giry. She thought that she may never sleep again for the rest of her life. The thing that frightened her most was the fact that she had to tell Erik.

"Christine…" Whispered a voice from the shadows, she bolted upright to see who it was. Fortunately it was only Erik. "Christine… I need to talk to you about tomorrow."

"Alright." She whispered back to him, as he sat down on the bed beside her.

"Ummm, where to begin?" He said, fidgeting. "Well, there is no other place for me to begin. I'm going to put a sword through her… I know she is going to try something at the performance, and I'm going to get there first."

Christine said nothing. She could tell that there was going to be no stopping Erik.

"That is not all though…" He began, taking something from the inside of his cloak. "Christine… if she should try anything. If she should come anywhere near you, then you need to be prepared…"

He then handed Christine what he had taken out of his cloak. Christine looked down at what she was holding with wide eyes.


	40. The Point of No Return

Chapter 40- The Point of No Return

The two managers were sitting in their office. Both of them were looking very tired from all of the rehearsals that had been going on all week. They only had one full dress rehearsal left before the performance, which was either going to be a huge success or a complete disaster.

"Funny… I thought you would be worried Richard." Said André, looking over at a very sick looking Firmin.

"I have resigned myself to the fact that there is nothing more we can do…" He paused, and then put his hands together, "…except pray."

André managed to give a very weak chuckle. "They are fine with everything. I'm sure the production will be… splendid!" He looked very doubtful as he said this.

"Or a lamentable mess!" Firmin retorted.

The two of them sat there in silence for another few minutes, both were looking extremely tense. They both jumped, as there was a knock at the door.

"Come in." Both of the managers shouted at the same time. Reyer entered.

He walked over to the desk, "Messieurs… I think this is the best time to tell you that I am going to hand in my resignation…"

Both Firmin and André got to their feet. "What!" They half shouted, they could not think why he would want to leave. The Opera House was like his home after all.

"I will stay with you for this one final performance… but I am getting too old for this sort of thing, and I think it is best that you find somebody younger and more capable." His voice was very low and sorrowful, but this did not seem enough to convince the managers.

"Is it because of the Opera Ghost?" Asked André, surprisingly calmly considering what he had just been told.

Reyer looked at him. His face showed the answer before he said it. "I am afraid so gentlemen. I just cannot concentrate on my job anymore knowing that he is watching me… and the memory of Joseph Bouquet…." His voiced trailed off, and he gazed at the floor, waiting for the managers to speak once more.

"If that is what you feel is right…" Firmin said quietly, "…then we will support your decision fully. I am just glad that you will be able to stay with us until 'Don Juan' is finished."

"Thank you for your understanding gentlemen. I will of course come back to visit you after my retirement." He whispered, a little more brightly.

"Yes of course." André said also in a cheery way. "We will see you tomorrow to discuss your pension."

"Merci." After that he disappeared out of the door, leaving the managers alone.

"Now we have another thing to worry about!" Firmin boomed at André.

"Well we should respect his decision. I mean he has been here for decades." He replied.

"But it is this thing, this man, the Phantom that has driven him out! If one goes because of him, who is to say that the rest won't follow?" Firmin was now panicking.

"Maybe we should focus on perfecting the Phantom's Opera first and then worry about Reyer later."

Firmin buried his head in his hands, not really knowing what to do. Indeed he knew that there were pressures of running an Opera, but he did not expect them to get as extreme as this.

"_May I ask you monsieur?" Lefevre looked over at him, questioningly. "Why exactly are you retiring?"_

"_My health", he replied, "It is exceptionally challenging running this place and I thought that perhaps it was time to take my leave. I have been running it for nearly 8 years." _

"I doubt I will last that long." Firmin said to himself.

André look at his partner questioningly. "What Richard?"

"Nothing." He replied. _I just know the real reason behind Lefevre leaving. Australia, wish I could be there and leave all of this behind right now._

-

As Madame Giry was teaching her class, Catherine came by and looked in. All she had been doing was prowling around looking at the goings on. Ivan had not contacted her in any way, and Zurie was giving her the cold shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Madame Giry asked her coldly.

"Can I help out with anything at all?" Catherine replied.

_What is she up to? _"No, nothing for the moment, but there is something you can do that will help everyone." Catherine looked waiting to be given the answer. "Stay out of the way!" Madame Giry snapped. She had clearly had enough of Catherine watching her as if she was some sort of inspector.

"Oh, there is no need to be so rude!" Catherine said, in a voice of fake offence. "I was only offering to help you out. I mean at your age I thought you would need…"

"Get out…" Said Madame Giry, sounding very annoyed, "… get out of here, NOW!" She shouted the last word at her so loudly that Catherine actually jumped back a few steps. If there was anything that Madame Giry hated it was being told that she was getting old.

The dancers had stopped to listen in on the conversation, which had earned them a shouting at when Madame Giry turned round to continue watching their progress. The dancers had perfected their routines for the evening's performance.

_Everybody will worship me when they see me kill the 'Opera Ghost'._ Thought Catherine to herself, as she turned and left the main theatre. She noticed something very strange about the Populaire. Christine was absolutely nowhere to be seen. _Probably off with that spawn of Satan…_

Catherine kept running over the plan in her mind. A bullet straight through the head would surely guarantee the death of Erik, but she could not be too confident. Erik would obviously have some sort of plan up his sleeve.

She also noticed a very strange looking man, with jade eyes and ebony skin walking around the Opera House in a white overcoat. Catherine could not think who this could be, but decided to push it to the back of her mind for the time being, as she had more important things to worry about.

-

Daroga walked into the theatre and stood watching the ballet dancers on the stage. He looked around and quickly spotted who he was looking for, Madame Giry, who looked like she was in a very bad mood indeed.

He walked over to her, getting a lot of very strange looks from all of the ballet girls. "Antoinette…" He began, talking very seriously.

"Daroga! What are you doing here?" Madame Giry was now getting suspicious looks from all of her dancers. She could hear them gossiping with each other. "Get back to your dancing!" She shouted at them, "What is it you want?" She whispered, turning back to Daroga.

"I have a message from Erik." He whispered, making sure that absolutely nobody else could hear what he was saying.

He handed her a letter from his inside coat pocket. Madame Giry took it and looked at it with some suspicion.

"I can't read it now. Not while my ballet dancers are here." She whispered.

"I advise you to read it as soon as you can. He said it concerned a very serious matter." He warned.

"When they go on their break, then I shall read it, also I can't have that annoying woman prowling about while I read this."

"Alright, just read it and then destroy the letter." He advised.

She nodded, indicating she should get back to work. Pocketing the letter, she walked back over to her dancers who were gossiping to one another.

"Did your mothers ever tell you that it is rude to try and listen into someone else's conversation?" She interrupted them.

No one said anything. If they even opened their mouths then they knew Madame Giry would explode.

"Back to your starting positions, and if I ever catch you trying to listen into private matters again then you will be out of this class. Do you understand me?" She yelled at them. She had clearly got out of the wrong side of the bed that morning.

Everyone was completely stressed out. The Managers, Madame Giry and Reyer were under more strain than ever knowing that they had to perform that evening.

After around 10 minutes Madame Giry dismissed her dancers. She gave them a half an hour as opposed to the usual 10-minute break, so she could go up to her office to read the note and also try to calm down.

She entered her room, shutting the door and locking it quickly behind her.

Heading over to her desk she opened the envelope and took out the piece of parchment inside and sat down and began to read.

-

Zurie was busy practicing her lines for 'Don Juan Triumphant', she had been given an singing role in this production and so she was not in the ballet. She was the main lead singer for the chorus as Erik had personally seen to it that she had been given a part which put her voice to use.

"Zurie." One of the caretakers came up to her. "Your father is here and wants to talk with you.

Ivan then entered the room. Zurie had not seen him for a long time and so she ran up to him and threw her arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry I did not believe you…" Ivan said, as the caretaker left them alone, "…I threw her out. She is never going to come back."

"I know…" Began Zurie, looking up at her father, "… she is here now, living in the Opera House."

Ivan cursed under his breath. He had hoped that she was going to move out of town, but he had obviously been wrong.

"It does not matter…" He said, as Zurie released him and went to sit down on her bed, "… she is no longer a part of this family, deceiving us like that was just unforgivable, and what she did to that… thing."

Zurie gave him a very angry look. "That 'thing' as you call him happens to be my step-brother, and his name is Erik."

Ivan looked at her apologetically. They talked for at least an hour, catching up on things that had been going on in each other's lives in the time that they had been apart.

"So, for the first time ever I have got a main role!" Finished Zurie, after telling her father all about 'Don Juan', "…of course that witch had to try and cause trouble over the time we were given to rehearse..."

Ivan's face contorted with rage. It had been like that since he had heard Catherine's confession. "Whatever that woman has to say should be sealed in concrete and dumped at the bottom of the ocean."

Zurie gave a small chuckle. "Here, here." She agreed.

Ivan's face suddenly changed to a very serious expression. "Zurie…under no circumstances whatsoever are you to tell anyone the reason that Catherine was thrown out. I don't want anybody badgering me about the whole affair…"

Zurie nodded to show her understanding, and then she checked the clock on her wall. "I'd better go. The final rehearsal starts in ten minutes."

She gave her father one last hug before going out through her door and heading to the main theatre. Ivan in the meantime, left the Populaire, he would come back later for the performance of 'Don Juan'.

-

Meg and Byron were heading down to the main rehearsals. Meg was again jittering and complaining about lines and was asking Byron if she could improve on anything. Byron did not see why Meg had to worry so much as she did not have as big a part as she did last time.

"Meg you will be fine. Stop worrying. You did well in 'Faust' and that was a bigger part than this one so you are bound to give your best performance." Byron as usual was trying to calm her down, however this did not seem to be working as well as he had hoped.

"I am not so sure… I mean this is a very complex Opera, I would hate to think what would happen should I get this wrong…" _I know he would never hurt me, but I can't disappoint him nonetheless. _"… This is his Opera, and he wants it to be perfect."

Byron got defensive and put his arm round her. "No one is going to touch you, not with me around…" Meg smiled as he said this. "Don't worry about anything. Just do your best."

They made their way down to the main theatre where everyone was gathering.

-

Catherine was also making her way down to the main theatre, but was unaware of the two lamp like yellow eyes of Porsche following her. Erik had asked the cat to keep an eye on his mother in case she tried to come down to the lair.

Catherine had a nasty feeling that someone or something was following her. She wheeled around but saw nothing and shrugged. _I must be imagining things…again. He is probably busy with that wretched girl. _She continued to head down the hallway.

Porsche followed at a safe distance, also on the lookout for Antoinette. Erik had told the cat to specifically stay away from her. If the cat ran into her, she was sure her master would get an ear bashing.

She saw Catherine enter the theatre and take a seat to watch the final rehearsal. Catherine noticed the managers sitting a few rows in front of her and so decided to get up and go to talk to them.

Porsche quietly sneaked underneath the chairs that they were sitting on so that she could listen.

"I think you ought to know the truth about Christine Daae…"

"Oh, and what truth might that be?" Said André disinterestedly.

"She and the so called 'Phantom' are together." Said Catherine, gleefully, "I have proof. I will show you…"

At hearing these words Porsche crept back out of the main room and ran towards Christine's room.

-

Christine was standing at Erik's side. They were currently running through the songs in 'Don Juan' ready for the final rehearsal and performance later that day. Since Erik no longer had a piano to play his music on, he used a violin.

Erik thought that Christine had been making a lot of progress. She had definitely improved since she first tried one of his songs from his opera.

"That was excellent!" Erik exclaimed, looking over at Christine with a very pleased expression on his face.

"Thank you. It is because I have a great teacher after all…" She began, giving him one of her cheeky looks, "… rehearsals start soon. We had better get going."

Christine however had not forgotten that Erik had told her that he was going to kill Catherine. She knew that there would be no changing his mind, but she would rather that it did not have to come to that. Erik seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Christine…" He whispered softly. He could not think of anything to say that might give her some reassurance.

She did not press the matter however, as she thought that this would make Erik angry with her.

All of a sudden, Porsche came dashing up to them. Erik seemed immediately to be able to tell that something was wrong. "… What is it?" He asked, with some trepidation.

The cat scratched at his leg, then ran off, which Erik took as a signal for him and Christine to follow immediately. Porsche led them to the boat, and through the passage and out through the mirror into Christine's room. Porsche then stopped in front of Erik.

"I think she wants you to go on alone…" The cat gave a small nod to show that Erik was correct.

Christine opened the door cautiously, and Porsche went through it first to lead the way. After walking for a few minutes, they came to the top of the great marble staircase in the entrance hall. At the bottom of the stairs were Catherine and the two managers. For some reason, Catherine seemed to be having a fight with one of the statues, which looked very comical.

Christine could just about make out the sarcastic voice of Firmin. "Oh yes, you are going to show us are you? Show us what, that you are completely insane?"

"But I am telling you!" Catherine cried. "This is the way in. It is just not working. If you go to Miss Daae's room right now, she will not be there."

"Alright and if she is, it will prove that what you are saying is completely ludicrous!" André told her.

"Say what you want about me, but this is no lie!" She snapped, spinning on her heel and marching up the stairs. Christine turned to Porsche.

"Porsche quickly take me back to my room." She asked the cat. Porsche turned and started sprinting in the direction that they had come from.

-

"I tell you she will not be in here!" A voice came from the other side of the door. It was then pushed open, and Catherine and the managers marched in.

Christine turned to face them. "I was just on my way down for the rehearsal. I'm not late am I?" She asked them.

Catherine seemed at a loss for words. "But… but…" She stuttered.

"Sorry Miss Daae, we shall see you at rehearsals. Madame I think we need to talk." Firmin said to Christine and then turned to Catherine.

Catherine glared at Christine evilly just before she turned to leave. As if to say 'you may have won this round but I will win the next time.'

The managers shut the door allowing Christine to breathe a sigh of relief. She had managed to not let her breathing get too heavy and sound as if she had just been running.

_I had better go off to the final rehearsal now._ She looked to find Porsche, who was sitting on her bed. "Alright, you may go back to Erik, he will know where I have gone." The cat obeyed, jumping off of the bed, pressing on the tile and vanishing down the passage.

-

It was an hour before curtain up and the panic had really got to everyone. The final rehearsal had not gone too terribly, but Erik was not too pleased with a few individuals. Christine however was outstanding. All the rest wondered how she could get so perfect, but they didn't know that she had been practicing with the Phantom himself.

Surprisingly, everyone had managed to maintain a state of consciousness, which was quite an achievement for Meg, as she would usually have fainted no less that 3 times by now. The managers were as usual blowing the whole thing out of proportion, but unlike for 'Faust', they had no words of encouragement for the crew.

The hour leading up to Don Juan seemed to consist mainly of panic attacks, but no fainting. Almost all of the actors, dancers and musicians were nervous about performing the Phantom's Opera. The news that Reyer was retiring seemed to have reached everybody's ears too, though nobody was sure how the information had leaked out.

With curtain up moments away, and the last few members of the audience taking their seats, Erik sat down in his usual seat in box five. He was somewhat nervous himself about seeing his masterpiece performed on stage, but could not think about this, he needed to concentrate on the matter at hand. He had his sword with him ready to strike. He was going to catch her off guard straight after the performance, if this failed however, Erik had a backup plan, or a 'lifeline' as he liked to call it.

At that moment, Catherine entered the dressing room, where there was one of the dancers making the finishing touches to her makeup. Approaching her very cautiously, Catherine grabbed her around the throat and pressed hard on a pressure point beneath her ear, making her collapse.

Catherine donned the costume that the dancer was wearing and then headed out onto the stage. Fortunately the curtain was still down. Catherine had been watching the dancing for this Opera very closely, so she knew roughly what to do.

The curtain rose, and unfortunately for Catherine, Erik spotted her at once, no matter how much she had watched the dancers she still looked a bit out of place. Erik was trying to work out what that witch was up to.

_What are you trying…_ He thought to himself. Not risking anything, he left box five at once, and headed down to the backstage area.

In the background he could hear the familiar opening chord sequence of his Don Juan. If he was not in such a panic he would have been admiring just how talented the Orchestra really was.

Erik spotted who he was looking for at once, Byron Larogue, who was playing Don Juan. Erik crept up to him very carefully, it was lucky that everybody else was on stage at the moment, and therefore too busy to notice Erik knocked him out by hitting him hard over the head.

Quickly putting on the outfit for Don Juan, Erik rushed over to the side of the stage, ready to make his entrance, and his opening duet with 'Passarino'. He still had a couple of minutes left before this however, which allowed him to take a closer look at Catherine. Erik was sure that she would not go onto the stage unarmed, though no matter how much he looked, she seemed to be completely defenceless.

Zurie had just finished leading the Chorus, which meant that Erik's entrance would be any second now. The chorus girls ran off stage and Erik entered along with Arnaud Fortesque, who was playing Passarino.

**Passarino faithful friend, once again recite the plan!**

Erik boomed.

**Your young guest believes I'm you - I, the master, you the man**.

Monsieur Fortesque replied as Passarino.

**When you met, you wore my cloak, she could not have seen your face.**

**She believes she dines with me in her master's borrowed place!**

**Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what in truth is mine.**

**When it's late and modesty starts to mellow with the wine.**

**You come home! I use your voice –**

**Slam the door like crack of doom!**

**I shall say, "Come hide with me!**

**Where oh where? of course my room!"**

**Poor thing hasn't got a chance.**

**Here's my hat, my cloak and sword.**

**Conquest is assured,**

**If I do not forget myself and laugh.**

Erik then began cackling as he went behind the black and red curtain, which was representing a tent.

_Christine's entrance is now. I hope that witch doesn't attempt anything yet._

He waited for Christine's voice to hit his ears, from behind the curtain he heard her sing her opening line as Aminta.

**...No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy.**

**No dreams within her heart, but dreams of love.**

As she sang the soaring last note, Erik swore he would lift off the ground. He went back onto the stage, and Fortesque sang one word that opened Erik and Christine's duet.

**Master…?**

**Passarino…**

**Go away for the trap**

**Is set and waits for his prey!**

Christine then noticed that it was Erik playing Don Juan instead on Byron. This realisation startled her so much that her face looked shocked. There was no way for Erik to explain what was going on however and so he just continued to sing.

**You have come here**

**In Pursuit of your deepest urge**

**In pursuit of that wish which till now**

**Has been silent… silent.**

Catherine was watching Erik sing intently, it was easy for her to tell it was him by his voice, but in appearance he was almost identical to the way that Byron looked as Don Juan.

**I have brought you**

**That our passions may fuse and merge**

**In your mind you've already succumb to me**

**Dropped all defences completely succumb to me**

**Now you are here with me, no second thoughts**

**You've decided… decided.**

Christine seemed to have just about recovered herself, and got up onto her feet to start acting along with the song.

**Past the Point of no Return…**

**No backward glances**

**Our games of make believe… are at an end!**

Erik then started to walk towards Christine, all the time trying to project one thought into Christine's mind. _She is in disguise… you need to get out of here…_

**Past all thought of 'if' or 'when'**

**No use resisting!**

**Abandon thought and let the dream descend…**

He then went behind Christine and grabbed her by the throat.

**What raging fire shall flood the soul?**

**What rich desire unlocks its door?**

**What sweet seduction lies… before us?**

Christine looked at Erik, still trying to work out why he had suddenly decided to perform in his own Opera, when it was him that had cast Byron to play the part he was currently playing.

**Past the Point of No Return**

**The final threshold!**

**What warm unspoken secrets will we learn?**

**Beyond the point of no… return.**

It was now Christine's turn to sing, her voice had a little more vibrato than it usually had due to her nerves about Erik performing with her.

**You have brought me**

**To that moment where words run dry**

**To that moment where speech disappears into silence… silence**

Her voice managed to regain its natural sound as she sang the next verse.

**I have come here**

**Hardly knowing the reason why**

**In my mind I've already imagine**

**Our bodies entwining defenceless and silent.**

**Now I am here with you**

**No second thoughts**

**I've decided… decided**

Christine noticed that Erik kept glancing towards the dancers although at a casual glance she could not see anything wrong with them.

**Past the Point of No Return**

**No going back now!**

**Our passion play has now at last begun!**

She took another look, but the only thing that she could see that looked a little bit strange was that one of the dancers was a bit out of time with the music. She moved over to the staircase that was near the back of the stage, and noticed that Erik was doing the same, still eyeing one of the dancers suspiciously.

**Past all thought of right or wrong**

**One final question:**

**How long should we to wait**

**Before we're one?**

They were nearly at the top of the spiral staircase.

**When will the blood begin to race?**

**The sleeping bud burst into bloom?**

**When will the flames at last,**

**Consume us?**

They were at the top. Erik was giving her such a meaningful look that she was starting to feel stupid not knowing what he was trying to tell her. Catherine in the meantime did not take her eyes off them as they both started to sing together.

**Past the Point of No Return…**

**The final threshold…**

**The bridge is crossed,**

**So stand and watch it burn!**

**We've past the Point of No…**

**Return!**

They stood there in the finishing pose, with Erik behind Christine with his arms round her waist, and Christine holding his hands with her own. They then broke apart, Erik suddenly looked horrified. He drew his sword but it was too late. Catherine had come up behind Christine, seized her by the throat and held a pistol to the side of her head.

The three of them stood there, Christine in shock, Erik in such rage that he was steadily going redder and redder in the face, and Catherine with a look of utter euphoria on her face.

"Oh dear…" She said, her voice so happy that she sounded as though she had just been made the queen of France. The audience were in shock, all of them talking very loudly and many of them screaming in terror.

Catherine then started to back down the staircase. Erik was following, sword still pointed at her face. He did not dare strike though as he knew that Catherine would be able to pull the trigger more quickly.

"Let her go!" Erik shouted. "It's me you want."

"You can watch your loved one die and then I will have the pleasure of finishing you off myself!" She hissed. Pressing the gun harder into Christine's temple.

"Just one problem…" Erik whispered. Catherine looked up at him questioningly. "…You can only fire a shot at a time. It would take me less than half the time to kill you than you have to reload that gun."

_Then I will do away with you! _"You're right." She said simply before removing the gun from Christine's head, aiming it at Erik and pulling the trigger.

"Aargh!" Erik yelled, dropping the sword. Christine screamed as did many of the audience. Firmin who was sitting in his box at the time ran to try and get some help. Catherine just grinned as she watched her son sink to the floor.

"Erik!" Christine flung herself out of Catherine's grasp and ran to where Erik was crouched. Tears streamed down her face. _No, no… ERIK! _"Erik please get up." She sobbed.

Catherine took another bullet from her pocket and was trying to reload the gun. "You will join him soon." She spat, trying to get the bullet in the gun.

She looked up at Christine to find herself starring down the barrel of a pistol. "After you." She choked. Looking away, Christine fired the gun.

Catherine tried to escape and this resulted in Christine's shot hitting her in the knee, immobilizing her. All of a sudden, Erik got to his feet, clutching his hand in agony.

"It's not possible…" Catherine whispered, looking round in amazement at Erik.

Erik managed to give a very forced laugh. "Poor aim mother… very poor aim." He held up his right hand, showing a hole right through his palm.

He seized Catherine with his left hand and dragged her into the middle of the stage. He then kicked the gun out of her hand, which she seemed to have forgotten about completely, and went over to pick up his sword.

He walked back to the top of the staircase. "Move Christine!" He shouted down, Christine did not hesitate to run to Erik's side. "Sorry to have to leave mother, but I will leave you with some entertainment…"

He swiped at a rope that was attached to the railings, Christine wondered what it did. Erik, as though reading her mind, nodded his head towards the chandelier, which was falling towards the stage. He then kicked at a lever at his feet, and he and Christine fell through a trap door, through the fake fire pit and beneath the stage.

"Curse you…" Whispered Catherine, "… damn you…"

The chandelier than came crashing down on her at a very high speed. The stage was set on fire, along with Catherine herself. Erik and Christine had to get out of the Opera House very quickly.

"I have Caesar waiting round the back…" He whispered, very quickly, then he led her through a passage which she had never been through that led outside the Populaire to where Caesar was.

They heard a 'meow' sound from behind them. "Porsche." Christine exclaimed. Porsche jumped up on Erik's shoulder sinking her claws into his cloak for support.

They got on, Erik needing some help from Christine due to his hand, and set off as fast as possible away from the Populaire, towards their home…

-

It was around five days after the Opera Populaire had been reduced to ashes. Erik had had a doctor come to the house the day after the incident, his hand would recover and heal, but for around 5 months Erik was not allowed to play the piano. Instead he and Christine would spend a lot of their time reading, or out in the garden, he was no longer worried about being seen, as the house was miles from anywhere.

They were both sitting in the living room reading on that morning, when Erik heard the patter of little paws come across the room. Porsche jumped up on his lap with the paper in her mouth.

Erik tickled her chin. "Thank you Porsche." She meowed which he took as a 'you're welcome.

He opened the newspaper, to read the title: **Charred Ashes of the Opera Populaire searched.**

_After the Opera Populaire was partly destroyed by a fire that was started for reasons unknown, authorities have searched the remains. A body was found in the ashes and it is believed to be that of one of the Patrons of the Opera Populaire; Madame Catherine Beaumont, wife the wealthy industrialist Ivan Beaumont. The managers of the Opera Populaire have claimed that they will start reconstruction of the building next month. They also say that the supposed 'Opera Ghost' no longer haunts the remains of the Paris Opera House._

_The well-known eighteen-year-old soprano Miss Christine Daae has been reported missing. Anyone with any information should contact the local authorities if they have any knowledge of her whereabouts._

"What does the paper say today then?" Erik said nothing, just passed it over to her, she read the column and looked back over towards Erik. "You have won the battle against her then, she can't hurt you anymore."

Erik nodded in agreement. "To bad her own son beat her…"

This reminded Christine of the news that she had for Erik. "Erik… I need to tell you something."

Erik looked up at her. "What would that be my love?"

"You're… you're going to be a father."

**THE END**

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**Authors Notes:** There have not been any notes in previous chaptes as they have been re-uploaded with corrections. So, thank you to everybody who has reviewed (besides the IPFC), and if you are a new reader, please leave a review to let us know what you thought of our story.

**Characters we DO own**

Most people say they own nothing in their story, in our case this is not true, we own the following characters:

**Porsche**

**Massort**

**Agatha**

**Zurie Beaumont**

**Catherine Beaumont**

**Ivan Beaumont**

**Byron Larogue**

In other news, people that are interested might like to know that the sequel is being written, so look out for it (it will be uploaded as soon as we have thought of a title lol).


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